


The Battle For Erebor

by alkjira



Series: Is There A Doctor In The House? [3]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, M/M, hospital!AU, human!AU, modern!AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2015-09-20
Packaged: 2018-01-02 15:40:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkjira/pseuds/alkjira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh,” Thorin said between clenched teeth. “Well, what do you think is more urgent? A patient almost dying? Or said patient's family suing the hospital?”</p><p>Nori raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“No,” Thorin spat. “Not one of mine. <em>Azog</em>.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have about 10k of this written, so I hope that it'll be finished a lot sooner than my WIPs usually are. Beginning to post now to make myself finish this instead of writing more hamster fluff. (sorry everyone who likes hamster fluff, but it'll still be here later)
> 
> I really want to finish this though. And right now I'm bullshitting myself and going back to edit the first bits instead of moving the plot forward, but I _hate_ editing after posting, hence this approach. (Take that, um, me!)

When they separated to find some much needed air it was with swollen lips and flushed cheeks on both their parts.  
  
The big hand at the small of Bilbo’s back felt fire-hot even through his shirt, as did the one at his waist, and he shivered and pressed closer to Thorin, gently stroking his fingers through the dark hair that tumbled over Thorin’s back. It had been a neat ponytail before they started kissing, and while that had been a very handsome sight indeed, Bilbo much preferred this. Thorin’s hair simply begged to be freed and petted.  
  
The two of them were standing by Bilbo’s car, Thorin’s being parked just a block further up the street. The evening had been lovely, with good food and even better company, and Bilbo didn’t want it to end. The prospect of getting into his car and watching Thorin walk away to his, and then going home to an empty flat and an emptier bed…  
  
Thorin bent his head and the tip of his nose rubbed against Bilbo’s. The gentle touch was entirely different from the hungry look Bilbo found in Thorin's eyes, and the blond swallowed. No, an empty bed was definitely not looking very appealing at the moment.  
   
“Come home with me,” Bilbo blurted. “I- You’re not working tomorrow morning. Neither am I. We could… do something.”  
  
 _Good going there, Baggins_ , Bilbo scolded himself. ‘ _Something’_. _Now that’s probably the most intriguing thing anyone has ever heard._  
  
They’d spent the night together before, but not yet enough times that Bilbo felt entirely comfortable suggesting it, as was probably evident… He didn’t want to assume that Thorin wanted this as much as he did. Oh, he hoped, but-  
  
Thorin’s hand moved to cup Bilbo’s cheek, rubbing a thumb over the barely there cheek-bone. “I can't. Dís is dropping the boys of at mine tomorrow. First thing. I'd never get home in-“ Thorin fell silent. “Unless you want to come to mine?”  
   
“Do you really want me there?” Bilbo asked hesitantly, pulling back a little. “If your nephews are-“  
   
“Yes,” Thorin said without any hesitation. “I'd like for you to meet them. If you want to.”  
  
“I’d love to.” Bilbo smiled up at Thorin. “You’ve told me so much about them, I feel like I know them already.”  
  
“You say that, but if you still want to meet them I fear you’ve not been listening,” Thorin teased, leaning in for a kiss and Bilbo rose up on his toes to meet him.  
  
However, just before their lips could meet, Thorin pulled his head back slightly. “We should be going then,” he murmured. Bilbo opened his eyes (when exactly they’d closed he didn’t quite know) and then he most definitely did not pout. He was a grown man, he was a medical doctor, he was, oh fine, he was pouting.  
  
“No, I think we were in the middle of something,” Bilbo said, tightening his arms around Thorin’s neck and shoulders. He had hoped to pull Thorin down the last remaining inches, but instead he only succeeded in hoisting himself upwards slightly because Thorin refused to budge.  
  
That… that _probably_ shouldn’t be as arousing as Bilbo found it to be. The fact that Thorin was that much stronger. His masculinity should probably feel threatened, it shouldn’t  twitch against Thorin’s thigh. Thorin’s very thick, very nicely muscled thigh. Bilbo blinked. What had he been thinking about again?  
  
 _Oh right_.  
  
Thorin was always so gentle, always so careful, and Bilbo didn’t even think it was related to what he had revealed about how his relationship with Smaug had ended, because even before that Thorin had touched him like something small and fragile. Which was sweet as much as it was _annoying_. He was hardly about to break.  
  
Bilbo shivered and leaned a little heavier against Thorin. “I think I need a kiss before moving.” He nodded. “Yes, I do believe that to be the case.”  
  
“Is that so?” Thorin rumbled, not leaning any further down, damn him. “What if I don’t require you to move?”  
  
“Then how am I-“ When Thorin suddenly ducked down Bilbo assumed that he would be getting that kiss after all, but instead what happened was that Bilbo’s feet was suddenly no longer touching the ground as he found himself being hoisted up and held by Thorin’s strong arms.

While Bilbo knew that _all_ of his blood could hardly have rushed from his head to relocate to his erection, that was certainly what it felt like. Really, his masculinity could start feeling threatened at any time now. No? Well then.  
  
Thorin took a few steps backwards, away from Bilbo’s car, and the teasing look in his eyes suggested that he was waiting for Bilbo to protest, that he would demand to be let down. Maybe say something about how they were in public and how it wasn’t proper.  
  
They were indeed in public, and this could hardly be called proper, but what Thorin hadn’t counted on was that Bilbo couldn’t find it within himself to _care_.  
  
It was late enough that they were hardly anyone around anyway, and it was so very hard – erm, poor choice of words – _difficult_ to care about being proper when pressed against a warm, gorgeous man whose mischievous blue eyes alone were enough to make Bilbo’s sense of propriety go on a long, entirely unplanned holiday. Or perhaps an adventure.  
  
Both Thorin’s arms were wrapped around Bilbo’s upper thighs, well, his arse really, making Bilbo’s legs dangle down in a fairly undignified matter (something he was also unable to care about) and this left them in a position where Bilbo’s head was actually above Thorin’s for once. And while Bilbo had instinctively tightened his arms around Thorin’s neck, it was quite clear that Thorin didn’t really need any help holding him up, which left Bilbo with both his hands free.  
  
“I don’t think you thought this through,” Bilbo mused as he traced Thorin’s lower lip with his thumb, noting how it made Thorin’s pupils expand until his eyes were more black than blue.  
  
“Really now,” Thorin said huskily, the teasing light in his eyes having once more faded into something much more blazing.  
  
“Really,” Bilbo nodded.  
  
Framing Thorin’s face with both his hands - Thorin’s beard tickling his palms - Bilbo nodded again, more decisively. “Yes, because now I can just have all the kisses I want.”  
  
He proved it by tilting his head and lightly brushing their lips together. Despite that they’d just kissed, not all that many minutes ago, Bilbo felt like it’d been ages and ages. Though perhaps it was just the novelty of having to be the one leaning down for once, because that was certainly new.  
  
The kiss quickly deepened when Thorin’s mouth opened beneath his, and a few moments, minutes, hours (Bilbo was not exactly watching the clock) later, Thorin murmured something incomprehensible and Bilbo shivered as he could feel the sound rumbling in the chest pressed against his.  
  
“Huh?” he asked eloquently, pulling back slightly. Doing so apparently allowed some oxygen to find its way to his brain, because Bilbo became aware that he’d curled both legs around Thorin’s hips, ankles crossing just below Thorin’s arse - his hands were back in Thorin’s hair - and the ‘kiss’ was perhaps about to turn a _little_ more improper than he really was comfortable with while still being out in public.  
  
“I was just bemoaning my cruel faith.” Thorin’s smile made his eyes glow, and yes, perhaps it was just because of streetlights, but it still was the most gorgeous smile Bilbo had ever seen. “But seeing as I can only blame myself, I must stand by the consequences.”  
  
He began to walk again and Bilbo’s arms and legs tightened reflexively around the parts of Thorin they were wrapped around. Which then made him swallow a moan as his erection rubbed against Thorin’s stomach.  
  
“Feel free to keep kissing me until we get to my car,” Thorin suggested. “That way I might learn from my mistakes.”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “You can’t carry me all the way to your car.”  
  
“I beg to differ,” Thorin said loftily.  
  
“Beg do you?” Bilbo only realised that he’d spoken out loud when Thorin’s eyes widened. “Oh dear. You, um, didn’t hear that?”  
  
“No, no,” Thorin shook his head. “I definitely heard that.”  
  
“Heard what?” Bilbo tried to look innocent. He had the feeling that it wasn’t really working.  
  
“Let me put it like this.” Thorin stopped, and looking up at Bilbo through thick, dark eyelashes he said: “ _Please_.”  
  
Bilbo shuddered and bit his bottom lip.  
  
“I thought so,” Thorin said smugly and continued walking.  
  
“It might be just as well that you’re carrying me,” Bilbo said a short while later. The game was up, might as well admit it. “I’m not sure if my knees are still functional after that.”  
  
The look Thorin gave him was slightly surprised.  
  
“What?” Bilbo asked. “Don’t pretend that you don’t know what you just did to me. What you _can_ do to me with just a sweet look.” Really, it was quite ridiculous at times. It had been a great long while since Bilbo had been a teenager, someone ought to inform his hormone levels about that.  
  
“I’m- not sure what to reply to that,” Thorin said with a slightly crooked smile. “But that was not what I was thinking about.”  
  
“What then?” Bilbo prompted, shifting his legs slightly as he could feel the beginning of a cramp. It was fairly impressing that Thorin wasn’t even breathing hard even though he was walking at a fairly brisk pace.  
  
“You are very free when it comes to expressing your feelings, I-“ Thorin searched for words. “That is not something I’m used to. But I’m finding it a great improvement over having to guess. And I admire your bravery.”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “Bravery? Esme would laugh at you if she heard you say that. She spent a _long_ time nagging me to ask you out and telling me to stop mooning.” It wasn’t necessary to inform Thorin just how long that was exactly as that would reveal just how little difference it was between that and how long they’d known each other.  
  
“That right there is what I mean,” Thorin’s grip tightened a little. “You give me that knowledge freely.”  
  
“Shouldn’t I?” Bilbo asked, feeling confused.  
  
“I don’t know what to reply to that either,” Thorin said wryly. “But I am pleased that you trust me. Very much so.”  
  
“I don’t let just anyone carry me around, you know.” Bilbo had been aiming for teasing, but what ended up coming out of his mouth was… not that. It was something much too serious to be teasing.  
  
“I know,” Thorin said, the look in his eyes very serious as well, and Bilbo had the realisation that they were probably talking about something important, and that he didn’t quite understand what that was. Thorin already knew that Bilbo was in love with him, so if this had turned into a metaphor for _that_ it struck Bilbo as slightly unnecessary.    
  
At a lack of something to say, Bilbo cupped Thorin’s jaw and leaned in for another kiss. If there was going to be metaphors floating around they might as well involve kissing.  
  
-  
  
“Kíli!!! Give it back!”  
  
“But I want t’play!”  
  
“But it’s _mine_!”  
  
“It’s going to be mine if you don’t stop arguing about it,” Thorin barked, making both his nephews turn big sad eyes; one set blue, the other brown, at him. Bilbo could quite literally see Thorin’s annoyance deflating like a punctured balloon.  
  
“Do you know what will happen if you share?” Bilbo interjected.  
  
“Helps build char’cter,” Fíli muttered darkly, and Bilbo just barely managed to keep from laughing.  
  
The boy was clearly quoting someone, perhaps his mother or perhaps his uncle seeing how Thorin looked a little guilty.  
  
“Really? Well that’s good news, but that wasn’t really what I was thinking about.” Bilbo got off the park bench which he had been sitting and crouched down beside the brothers. “When I’m around and people share- “ he said, lowering his voice enough that the two boys had to come closer and be quiet to be sure to hear him. “ _Ice cream_ happens.”  
  
“Ice cream?” Kíli asked, the little handheld game they’d been fighting about dangling forgotten in small, chubby fingers.  
  
Bilbo nodded. “Perhaps not at once. But given enough time and enough sharing, ice cream definitely happens.” He just hoped that was all right with Thorin… But it was Saturday, and they’d have lunch first.  
  
Bilbo glanced over at Thorin who just looked amused. Well, that was not the face of a man who opposed ice cream. Good.  
  
“So I would suggest that Kíli will play for a while, let’s say ten minutes, and then Fíli will play, and if you keep that up I’m sure that there will have been enough sharing to produce ice cream sometime after lunch.”

“You are very good with children,” Thorin smiled after the boys had scurried off to go sit on the grass and hopefully play in a more sedate manner. Shaking his head Thorin snorted. “Of course you are, or you’d hardly gone into paediatrics.”  
  
“Well, it’s a bit of a sink or swim situation to be sure,” Bilbo smiled, he got back up and joined Thorin on the bench again, trying to ignore how his knees creaked. “The trick is not to show any fear. They can smell it a mile away.”  
  
“That I can believe,” Thorin chuckled.

“They're lovely though,” Bilbo said quietly, and he wasn’t lying. Fíli was seven and Kíli was four (and a   _half_ , as he had been sure to point out) and already after spending just an hour with them it was clear that they were sweet and bright children, fighting over games notwithstanding.  
  
They’d fed the ducks at the pond shortly after arriving to the park and Kíli had been genuinely distraught when one of the bigger ducks bullied his way into eating more than his fair share of the birdseed. Fíli, after seeing this, made sure to toss his handfuls of seed towards the smaller ducks, whenever the bully’s back was turned just to make his brother smile.  
  
“Your sister must be proud. And you as well. It can’t have been easy after her husband passed.”  
  
“It wasn’t,” Thorin said simply, gazing at the blond and dark heads bent together over their game. “Dís had just started working again after having Kíli, and-“ Thorin cut himself off. “She _loves_ them, “ he said, looking back at Bilbo. “But she’s not made to spend almost two decades _just_ being a mother. She tried, but-”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” Bilbo said gently. “I’m glad you were there for her, for them. _Are_ there for them even now, obviously.”  
  
“It was easier for me. I could take more time off since I’d been working longer, and work when she had quit for the day. And Gandalf was very understanding.”  
  
“Gandalf is that.” Bilbo glanced over at the children. “Is it, okay if I hold your hand?” He wanted to, but he didn’t want to make Thorin uncomfortable.  
  
Thorin frowned and Bilbo tried not to be disappointed. Sometimes parents - and while Thorin was biologically 'only' an uncle, the boys clearly meant more to him than that - weren’t comfortable, for a variety of reason, with displaying affection with a new partner if their children were around. It was understandable. Stability and all that. They'd not been seeing each other for all that long anyway, and-  
  
“Of course it is okay,” Thorin said firmly, covering Bilbo’s hand with his own larger one.  
  
 _Oh_.  
  
“I didn’t want to assume,” Bilbo said, turning his hand so that it was palm up and then twining his fingers with Thorin’s.  
  
“And you didn’t, you asked, and I said that it was okay.” Thorin shifted so that their thighs were just touching. “But we best keep it G-rated. Unlike when you jumped me yesterday. And in public as well. I’m surprised at you Doctor Baggins.”  
  
“I did not such thing,” Bilbo objected. “I was just-“  
  
“Suggesting that we’d ‘do something’,” Thorin smirked.  
  
“Well-“  
  
“Demanding kisses… Then stealing kisses and wanting me to _beg_. Not to mention what you did to me later.” At the last sentence Thorin's voice deepened until it could only be described as a purr.  
  
“This is _not_ G-rated,” Bilbo complained faintly. But he had to smile when Thorin leaned his head back and laughed hard enough that the sound of it made both boys turn their way and peer concernedly at them.  
  
“Are you okay, Uncle?” Fíli asked.  
  
“I’m okay, Fíli,” Thorin smiled, putting his arm over Bilbo’s shoulder and closing the remaining distance between them. “I'm just wonderful.”  
  
-  
  
“Nori, where the hell is Gandalf?” Thorin demanded as he stormed into the redhead’s office. “And don't tell me he's in the meeting he’s supposed to be in, because I checked and he _isn't_. The room was empty.”

“If he's not at his scheduled meeting then I don't see how I am supposed to know where he is,” Nori said sardonically and shuffled some papers.  “He’s the boss of me, I’m not the boss of him.”

“And that was not a ‘no, I don't know where he is' so where is he?” Thorin growled. “He wouldn't disappear without telling someone, _you_ , in case there is an emergency and this _is_ an emergency.”

“Emergencies should go to the A&E,” Nori drawled, but he relented beneath Thorin’s glare. “Fine,” he said getting his mobile phone out of his pocket and tossing his long. red, braid over one shoulder. “What's so urgent?”  
  
“Oh,” Thorin said between clenched teeth. “Well, what do you think is more urgent? A patient almost dying? Or said patient’s family suing the hospital?”  
  
Nori raised an eyebrow.  
  
“No,” Thorin spat. “Not one of mine. _Azog_.”

 -

“One of the nurses who assisted during the operation told me about how Azog _deliberately_ ignored the anaesthetist and risked the patient’s life. It was sheer luck that she made it through the surgery.” Thorin slammed both his palms down on Gandalf’s desk and leaned over it. “I want him suspended and his license pulled and the gods help me if this ends up being swept beneath the rug to protect the hospital.”  
  
“The hospital is here for the patients’ wellbeing,” Gandalf said mildly.  
  
“Tell that to the board of directors,” Thorin muttered. They’d seen through the fingers too many times already when it came to Azog.  
  
Gandalf sighed, but Thorin didn’t let him try and excuse their previous decisions to let Azog remain at Erebor as a surgeon. “Azog might have been a good surgeon _once_ \-  though I have my doubts, but now he is a danger. I cannot just stand here and watch anymore.”

“Is it possible that he simply made a mistake?” Gandalf asked, meeting Thorin’s gaze evenly when the dark-haired man glared at him.

“No.” Thorin took a deep breath and dragged on hand over his face. “No, it was not a mistake.”  
  
“I see.” Gandalf said slowly.  
  
“If you do not pursue this, I will,” Thorin said flatly. “  
  
“That won’t be necessary,” Gandalf said, rising from behind his desk. “I promise you, this will not be overlooked.”  
  
To Thorin’s surprise, Gandalf suddenly looked _old_. Oh, he was old, make no mistake about that, but usually the man looked… timeless. Like he’d been born just the way he was now, like that was how he was simply meant to be.  
  
“I do know that there are things that have been… ignored before,” Gandalf said tiredly. “Things had been better lately, I had hoped… But no matter.”  
  
“If by better you mean that there’d been no malpractice suits against Azog for some time, then by all means,” Thorin said and shook his head. “But don’t fool yourself into thinking that is because he has become a good- no, because he has actually become a _doctor_.”  
  
“Has a report been filed?”  
  
“Not yet,” Thorin said darkly. “Lalaith says that he actually threatened her. She’s terrified.”  
  
There was little doubt of who this ‘he’ was.  
  
“And the nurse?”  
  
“Bard,” Thorin said with some satisfaction and Gandalf nodded.  
  
“He should file the report then, if Lalaith will not.”  
  
“I’ll talk to him at once,” Thorin promised, turning to leave.  
  
“Thorin,” Gandalf called just as he was about to leave the office. “Thank you.”  
  
“It’s my hospital as well, Gandalf,” Thorin said, waving the thanks away. “Erebor does not belong to the likes of Azog. And he does not belong _here_.”

-

Unbelievingly, Azog did not get fired. He was suspended for a week, then the family withdrew their suit and the board of directors steamrolled Gandalf and reinstated Azog the next day on the grounds that everything had just been a _misunderstanding_.  
  
To say that Thorin was livid was to say that the sun was lukewarm. But when he marched into the board meeting prepared to shove Bard’s report down someone’s throat; though also prepared to take a deep breath and _not_ shove the report down someone’s throat, things got impossibly worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter tomorrow.
> 
> Please note, that in future chapters the M rating isn't just going to be because Bilbo and Thorin keep pawing at each other. 
> 
> This story will have themes that are not exactly kiddy friendly, (read: adult) but which would give away part of the plot if I tagged. No rape/graphic violence/main character death though. Worried about anything in particular, poke me.


	2. Chapter 2

“What do you mean you’re _suspended_?” Bilbo asked sharply.  
  
“Exactly what it sounded like,” Thorin snarled, tearing his coat down from the hanger and shoving his arms into the sleeves.  
  
Bilbo had been waiting for him in his office, and normally Thorin would have been thrilled at this, but at the moment such concepts as ‘thrilled’ and ‘happiness’ seemed like something fictional.  
  
“I’m suspended while there is an inquiry of if I’m conducting a personal _vendetta_ against Azog, a vendetta that I’ve now dragged Bard into as he is in love with my sister and thus susceptible to manipulation, either from myself or my sister, who knows, but either way Dís may or may not be involved in the fucking _conspiracy_ against the _esteemed_ doctor Azog. That damned board of directors!”  
  
With a growl of frustration Thorin bashed his fist against the wall by the door. It hurt, but not nearly as much as seeing Bilbo flinch away from him. It was only the slightest, slightest wince, but to Thorin it felt like the other man had cowered behind the desk.  
  
“I can’t- I’m sorry. I clearly can’t be around you- people right now,” Thorin managed before he pulled open the door and strode out.  He’d swore that he’d never do anything that would remind Bilbo about Smaug, but clearly he’d failed in that regard. Just as he’d failed the patients that would now keep Azog as their doctor. Just as-  
  
“Thorin! Thorin, wait.”  
  
Thorin did not. Bilbo was better off without him around, because Thorin still felt like he would gladly strangle Azog should the pale faced son of a bitch dare to show his face. And Bilbo deserved someone better than that, someone who wasn't violent. Someone who would never scare him.  
  
Bofur would never strangle someone. Not that Bilbo had ever been interested in Bofur, but- Thorin dug his nails into the palms of his hands, not feeling the pain from that or how the injured one ached.

He’d talk to Bilbo later, apologize again, after he’d calmed down. Maybe-  
  
“Thorin, you promised that you’d always listen to me. So listen. I _don’t_ want you to go. So please wait.”  
  
Thorin stopped, and realised that he was breathing hard, almost as if he’d actually been fighting.  
  
“You don’t ever have to run from me.” Careful hands brushed over his own, which were still clenched into fists. The one he’d bashed against the wall throbbed dully, and Bilbo sighed. “Let me see what you did to your poor hand.”  
  
“It’s fine,” Thorin said shortly. “Nothing’s broken.”  
  
“Let’s make sure. Wriggle your fingers for me.” Clever fingers  poked and prodded and Thorin gritted his teeth because while nothing was broken, it still hurt. He was so stupid, so unbearably stupid. What kind of surgeon risked damaging their hands anyway? Only moronic ones, indeed.  
  
“I think you’re going to get away with just needing an ice bag,” Bilbo murmured, turning concerned hazel eyes up at Thorin. “Let me _help_ you.”  
  
“With the ice pack?”  
  
Bilbo shook his head. “Well, with that as well. But I was thinking more with the rest. We’ll sort this out. Together.”  
  
“I don’t want to drag you into this,” Thorin said darkly. “It’s a miracle they’ve not done so already considering that our relationship is no secret.” He hissed when his hand throbbed as he clenched it. "You should not get involved."  
  
“I’m not leaving you to deal with something like this on your own. I wouldn’t leave anyone to it, but particularly not you,” Bilbo said stubbornly.  
  
“Because you _love_ me,” Thorin stated, almost hoping that his words would offend Bilbo. That he would think himself being mocked and leave and not get involved in something like this. Thorin didn’t know what sway Azog held with the board, he’d never understood it, but it had to be big to produce this kind of result. Perhaps big enough to get Bilbo suspended as well. Guilty by association.   
  
“Yes,” Bilbo said without hesitation. “Because I love you.”  
  
Thorin felt his anger subside, for the moment anyway.

“I don’t deserve you, Bilbo Baggins,” he murmured, leaning down to press their foreheads together. He hadn’t even told Bilbo that his feelings were returned. He wanted to, but every time he’d tried put words to it, something had stopped him. Another sign that he did not deserve Bilbo.  
  
“Well I think you do,” Bilbo said, brushing a lock of hair away from Thorin’s face, and then brushing a soft kiss over his mouth. “So let me be the judge of that.”  
  
The words were on the tip of Thorin’s tongue. _I love you_. But he couldn’t say it now, not in a situation like this when everything else was so wretched. Bilbo deserved something better than that. He only deserved nice things, which was why Thorin was a selfish bastard for wanting to keep him anyway.  
  
“So what do we do now?” Bilbo asked, still not moving away, and Thorin sighed and raised his arms to curl around the smaller man’s waist, pulling the familiar body against his own.  
  
“I’ll call Dís-“  
  
Bilbo opened his mouth to protest the use of pronouns and Thorin smiled slightly. “And then _we_ 'll go and see her.”  
  
“Oh.” Bilbo’s mouth closed with a small click. “That works.”  
  
-  
  
“I’m going to string that bastard up by his balls and then-“  
  
“You know,” Bilbo said to Thorin. “Hair colour or not, somehow I’m not doubting that you are brother and sister.”  
  
Thorin gave him an unamused look.  
  
“You might use less… _harsh_ words, but there is something familiar about this.” Bilbo gestured towards where Dís was striding back and forth, blue eyes blazing with fury and voice reduced to a growl.  
  
“I don’t know what you mean,” Thorin said haughtily, even though he was secretly relieved that Bilbo could already joke about what had happened. He hadn’t meant to frighten his lover, he would _never_ want to do that, especially not over someone as low as Azog.

“-and rip his throat out!”  
  
“So your sister is a lawyer?” Bilbo whispered. “You’re sure she’s not secretly Wonder Woman or something? Or maybe a super villain?”

Thorin’s lips quirked and in response he got a fairly blinding grin.  
  
 _I love you._  
  
“I-“  
  
“-bloody well feed him to pigs while he’s still alive!”  
  
“I think it’s best if we let her get it out of her system,” Thorin said beneath his breath. “Her office is soundproof and I’m not about to tell her to stop. She not above pulling hair when she’s upset.”  
  
“Ah, on that account Azog will be safe then,” Bilbo said faintly as Dís continued thinking up new ways to dispose of a body.  
  
-  
  
“So what can we do?" Thorin asked when his sister had slumped down into a chair, kicked off her shoes and was now rummaging around in her desk for a notepad.  
  
“Haven’t you been listening?” Dís asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
“And you’ve wondered why I’ve not yet invited you to meet Bilbo,” Thorin said drily. Dís looked a little guilty.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she told Bilbo. “I’m not always this murderous.”  
  
“No, I imagine it would be hard to be a successful lawyer if the judges kept wanting to throw _you_ into prison,” Bilbo said with a smile.  
  
Dís laughed, then laughed harder when she saw the scowl that had settled on Thorin’s face, a scowl he quickly tried to hide when Bilbo turned to look at him. He didn’t mind that Bilbo smiled at other people. And despite what Dís had accused him of before when he wouldn’t let her meet Bilbo, that had been in no way related to Dís always stealing his toys when they were kids.  
  
“Thank you, I needed that I think,” she told them and Bilbo looked in confusion at Thorin who settled for shrugging.  
  
“Right,” Dís continued. “So I’ll need Bard’s phone number, and then a written version of what he told you, from you, Thorin, I mean, and then things would go a lot easier if you could get this anaesthetist to talk to me.”  
  
“I’ll try,” Thorin said reluctantly. “But she’s afraid of Azog.” At least Bard would gladly give Dís his phone number. And, even though it felt unfair towards Lalaith to say it, Bard wasn’t not easily frightened either.  
  
“I’ll talk to her,” Bilbo suggested. “You’re not supposed to be at the hospital anyway, not when Azog is there,” he reminded Thorin. “And it would probably look better if you’re not seen talking to her outside a professional setting or they could claim that you coaxed her into saying what she said.”  
  
“Not just pretty is he?” Dís stage-whispered to Thorin who scowled at his sister. “Are you sure you’re not too smart to be hanging around someone like my brother?” she asked, turning towards Bilbo again.  
  
Bilbo pursed his lips and tapped his fingers against the desk. “I know a lot of blonde-jokes, are you sure you want to hear them?”  
  
“Oh, I like you!” Dís beamed. “Attack _is_ the best defence. And I have on good authority that my sons like you as well, and my brother obviously does even though he doesn’t like anyone. I’m impressed Doctor Baggins.”  
  
“Call me Bilbo,” Bilbo said with a hesitant smile and Thorin scowled again as he very well remembered when Bilbo had made the same offer to him. Though the smile he had received had been much wider and more genuine, Thorin noted smugly.  
  
“And I’m Dís to everyone who bribes my sons with ice cream without wanting see them naked.”  
  
Thorin shook his head and groaned.  
  
-

“Is it lonely without your shadow around?”

Bilbo turned to see Azog looming over him. Despite being in the cafeteria, and as such a very public place Bilbo felt uneasy about being ‘alone’ with the other man.  
  
When Azog looked at him Bilbo was always left with the feeling that the man was just barely keeping himself from tearing out his jugular with his teeth. He oozed barely restrained violence, and though Bilbo very much wanted to give everyone a fair chance, he had quickly come to realise that Thorin was not being unreasonable with his aversion for Azog.  
  
The talk Bilbo’d had with Lalaith had only cemented this opinion. The poor thing had been absolutely terrified. She wouldn’t even tell him what Azog had said, but it was all too clear that he had said _something_ that now caused her to keep her silence. Could Azog possibly have done the same thing with as many members of the board it took to not have him fired?  
  
“Though I would say that you are better without him,” Azog grinned. His teeth were ever so slightly pointed. Not just the canines, but all of them, and not for the first time Bilbo wondered if Azog had Hypohidrotic ectodermal dysplasia. Or something similar. It would explain not only the teeth, but also be the cause of his lack of hair and many of the facial features that struck Bilbo as slightly irregular; the wide and prominent forehead and the flat bridge of his nose to only mention two.

This time though, his attention was soon drawn to Azog eyes, because at a second glance Bilbo realised that the man’s pupils were only the size of needle pricks.

“Are you on something?” Bilbo blurted before he could make his mouth shut itself.

“Life!” Azog laughed, and when he stopped he didn’t end it with a grin as much as it was just a showing of teeth. “I wonder what it must be like for you, to be so small and feeble. So removed from all the greatness in life.”  
  
“I get by,” Bilbo said shortly.  
  
Azog laughed again, as if Bilbo had said something particularly amusing. “I’m sure you think you do. Take some advice. Now that Oakenshield is as good as fired, try to find better company. He’ll only drag you down with him. You'd do better siding with someone like me.”  
  
With that the man left, leaving Bilbo with the queasy feeling that he’d either been threatened or propositioned.  
  
-  
  
He chose not to tell Thorin about either of those things, but he did phone Thorin while on his break later that afternoon, to share what he’d observed about Azog’s pupils.  
  
“He’s got some nerve if he’s using while working at a fucking hospital,” Thorin growled. “I would not put it past him, but either he thinks that everyone around him is blind or that he is untouchable.”  
  
“A bit of both I would say,” Bilbo suggested, trying to relax his shoulders which kept creeping up towards his ears. He didn’t like talking about someone behind their back, but he couldn’t let what he’d seen just pass by either. “Can we get him tested? I’m almost certain something would show up.”  
  
“Gandalf might be able to arrange a ‘random’ test. Only problem is that everything that Gandalf’s been doing lately has immediately been thwarted.”  
  
“You don’t think Nori…” Nori was the only one Bilbo could think of that knew everything Gandalf was doing, but he _liked_ Nori. Surely he wouldn't be involved.  
  
“Very unlikely, Nori hates Azog. Has done ever since he bastard was rude to his brother.”  
  
“Nori has a brother?”  
  
“Two, but one of them works here in the hospital. Dori. Pharmacist.” The silence on the line turned contemplative. “What happened was that Dori had been working late, doing inventory or something like that, and when he turned around Azog was basically going through a drawer of prescription drugs. He claimed that he only wanted to check something for one of his patients. But Dori has a temper, and you know Azog isn’t the most polite person around, we’ll leave it at that. It wasn’t ever reported.”  
  
“You think he might have been looking for something for himself?” Bilbo kicked his shoes off and wiggled his toes. Sadly, it would be far from the first time a doctor either faked prescriptions or just simply marched in and stole drugs when everyone’s back was turned. But from Thorin's description it rather sounded like this had been quite some time ago. Was it really possible that Azog had been abusing drugs for... years? And it was only now getting into the light?  
  
"When was this anyway?"  
  
“Three-four years ago, perhaps five." Thorin said slowly. “I’ll talk to Gandalf. Whatever good that will do,” he added in a mutter.  
  
“Gandalf is doing what he can, I’m sure he is,” Bilbo said, nodding for emphasis before he remembered that Thorin couldn’t see him.  
  
“But what good does that do when nothing comes of it?”  
  
“If everyone tried to do nice things, the world would be a better place.”  
  
Thorin’s voice was warm when he next spoke. “If there were more people like you, then the world would be a better place.”

“If there were more people like me, I expect most of them would also be hopelessly in love with you. I'd rather not have the competition, if it’s all the same,” Bilbo said, leaning back into the chair and smiling rather foolishly up into the ceiling.  
  
It truly didn’t matter to him that Thorin hadn’t yet returned his affections with similar words. Smaug had often waxed poetic about love and destiny and all manner of things that at the time had seemed so wonderful, and look where that had ended up.  
  
Thorin might not say it, but Bilbo certainly felt loved, wanted and cherished. It was there in Thorin’s eyes and touch and voice, if not in his words.  
  
Not yet anyway. But Bilbo was prepared to give him all the time he might need. He wouldn’t even keep mentioning his own feelings had he not realised that it made Thorin’s eyes light up in wonder every time he did.

It was hardly the look of someone uncomfortable with what they were hearing, and Bilbo was definitely not uncomfortable with what he was feeling. Not now that he knew he wasn't alone in it.

  
“Bilbo, I-“  
  
“Bilbo?” A knock came on his door.  
  
“Could you just hold on a second,” Bilbo said into the phone before pulling it away from his face. "Come on in!” he called, holding one finger up to Radagast as he entered then pointing at the phone. The older man nodded, bouncing from one feet to the other in a manner that suggested that he was either eager, nervous or needed a trip to the bathroom.  
  
Bilbo hoped it wasn’t the latter.  
  
“I better hang up anyway,” Thorin said reluctantly. “I need to call Gandalf. I’ll see you tonight?”  
  
“I’ll stop by after my shift’s over,” Bilbo promised. “Or do you want to go out for dinner?”  
  
“Actually, I thought I’d cook.” Thorin sounded smug.  
  
“Take out it is then,” Bilbo teased and Thorin snorted.  
  
“No dessert for you.”  
  
“Horrible man,” Bilbo scolded. “I was of course just thinkin of your poor hand. Nothing else. But okay, see you later then.”  
  
“No dessert.” Despite saying that, Thorin’s voice was rich and dark like the best kind of chocolate. Still, it was cruel to keep dessert from a man in need of it.  
  
“Bye.” Bilbo shook his head with a smile and ended the call.

"Radagast, hello,” he then said, turning towards the other man. “Anything I can do for you?” Bilbo rather hoped that this wasn’t just about a character from one of the daytime shows Radagast liked to watch while doing paperwork, if it was he would much have preferred to keep talking to Thorin.  
  
“I’m adopting two rabbits!”  
  
Well, Bilbo supposed that was better than soap operas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fucking hell, not only am I writing medical!au while knowing nothing about hospitals except what I’ve learnt watching House, now I also had to mix in laws and lawyers. Please overlook any weirdness as creative license. *flutters eyelashes*


	3. Chapter 3

  
“What a creep!” Esmeralda exclaimed as Bilbo finished telling her about Thorin being suspended and the entire Azog story. They’d not seen each other in a while, and getting her up to date about everything that had been going on lately had taken long enough that Bilbo’s throat almost felt sore.

"I won't argue with that. The drug test was yesterday, and now we’re waiting for the results.”

“Seriously, the hair on my arms is standing straight up. Brrr!” Esme shivered and curled up in couch. “If Thorin’s sister can’t help you, you need to report him to the national board or something. You can’t let him get away with that shit.”  
  
“We won’t,” Bilbo promised, even if he wasn’t quite convinced. They might get an impartial investigation started by reporting Azog, but it would be hard for them to prove anything. The surgeon hadn’t ever been as much as reprimanded before, which Thorin said was only because the board of directors had their heads up each other’s arses, and it would be hard to show how bad of a doctor he was if not more people dared speak up about it.  
  
It was uncommon but not _that_ uncommon to get a malpractice lawsuit thrown at you every now and again, or at least the threat of one, but it was the verdict that counted, and from what Bilbo understood Azog had never been deemed guilty of negligence or mistreatment.  
  
“What did the union say about Thorin’s suspension?”  
  
“What can they say?” Bilbo shrugged and glanced at his watch. Thorin and Dís was involved with another meeting with them right about now, but neither of the siblings had seemed inclined to think that this would go any better than the last.  
  
“The rest of his department had no choice but to try and divide his patients between them so no one would suffer from this, so they can’t claim that his absence is putting people at risk. Boromir is taking over as the department head for now.”  
  
“Wow,” Esme let her head fall back against the couch’s headrest, staring up at the ceiling. “Soooo, there’s crème brûlée in the fridge that Sar brought home from work this morning and he graciously informed me about it before falling asleep. I feel like eating way too much of it, how ‘bout you?”  
  
“ _Please_ ,” Bilbo said emphatically.  
  
-  
  
The crème brûlée was excellent. Hardly unexpected since it came from Sar’s restaurant, but definitely welcome.  
  
Esme contemplatively licked her spoon. “Okay, so enough about Mister Tall, Pale and Creepy, how are things with Mister Tall, Dark and Gorgeous?”  
  
Bilbo smiled around his spoonful of creamy goodness. “Wonderful.”  
  
“Oh, Bilbo,” Esme said, sending a beaming smile his way. “You still look like someone who’s just fallen in love, it’s radiating off you. Which is a great improvement compared to when you’d just fallen for him, because you fretted an _awful_ lot in the beginning.”  
  
Bilbo snorted.  
  
“I’m thrilled for you,” his cousin continued. “Though I still say I should get to have the shovel talk with him. Tell him not to mess with us Tooks.”  
  
“I’m a Baggins and you’re a Brandybuck now,” Bilbo reminded, even though he knew that it wouldn’t make any difference.  
  
“Pfft.”  
  
True enough.  
  
“You know I only changed my name because that was the only way I could convince Sar that we didn’t need some big fancy wedding with like hundreds of people.”  
  
“That your marriage started out with bribery explains so much,” Bilbo murmured.  
  
“ _And_ ,” Esme said pointedly. “You wouldn’t have become a surgeon, maybe not even a doctor if you’d been all Baggins. Too unpredictable, Bilbo my lad,” she added, in a reasonable impression of his father.  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with being a Baggins,” Bilbo sniffed.  
  
“Of course it isn’t,” Esme said and rolled her eyes. “Grandma Rosa was one, and goodness knows she didn’t care about if anything was proper or not. Hell, Paladin is sneakily pretty much all Baggins and not very much a Took at all, but I still love him.” She giggled. “If we tested him I bet the genes from Grandma’s side of the family would all stand up and scold us for snooping around.”

Shaking his head Bilbo reached for another dessert. (Surely it was still dessert even if you’d actually not had dinner? Or lunch…)  
  
“You know it’s the truth,” Esme smiled. “Paladin is happy being a good worker, a good husband, and a good father-“  
  
“Yes, sounds horrible,” Bilbo said and cracked the caramel cover with one tap of the spoon, savouring the sound.  
  
“You know what I mean.” Esme rolled her eyes. “I love my brother, but there’s not even one single bone in his body that wants to do something… unexpected. And oh, speaking of, did I tell you that Eglantine is expecting again? The _geek_ shall apparently inherit the earth.”  
  
“Esme,” Bilbo scolded, but a smile kept pulling at the corners of his mouth. “But that’s wonderful news. Another lovely girl or an equally lovely boy.”  
  
“Merry is hoping for a boy, but only because he’s tired of the girls using him as a living doll. He’ll be happy enough just having someone smaller around.” She frowned and looked towards the partially open door that led to Merry’s room. It was currently devoid of any Merrys as he was spending the day with Saradoc’s parents.  
  
“Do you think we’re being selfish? Not planning to have any more children?”  
  
“I’m sure social services are hiding in the bushes even as we speak.” Bilbo shook his head and touched his fingers to the back of Esme’s hand. “You’re wonderful parents, both of you. As someone who grew up without siblings I can’t tell you that it’s _never_ crossed my mind to wonder what it would have been like, but I’ve had you, Paladin and Sar, and Drogo, and I can’t imagine that it was really any different from actually having siblings.” Bilbo smiled. “You’ve certainly told me that you’re not touching me enough to qualify as my sister.”  
  
Immediately a hand hovered just next to his face. “I’m not touching you,” Esme said innocently, then the wide grin turned into something more sincere. “Thank you, Bilbo. You know Sar doesn’t have any siblings either, and he says that he’s never missed them. But I can’t imagine what growing up without Paladin would have been like.” She pursed her lips. “Well, I wouldn’t have kept stepping on his damned Lego I guess. He always built houses; houses with a fence and a garage. I think that was the first clue for what he was planning to do with his life.”  
  
Bilbo laughed. “Remember when we built the submarine and plunked it down in the aquarium? I’ve never seen outraged fish before, or since.”

“I mostly remember the outraged one being mum,” Esme said wryly. “And Paladin once he realised what we’d done with his precious plastic bricks.”  
  
As one they chuckled, and then dug into their desserts once more.  
  
-  
  
“Someone must have warned him and whatever he takes must leave the system fairly quickly,” Thorin snarled as he paced back and forth in Bilbo’s living room. Gandalf had just called, interrupting the viewing of a film that Bilbo couldn’t even remember the name of, but he regretted the loss of Thorin pressed up against his side, close enough that Bilbo could smell the faintly citrusy smell of his shampoo.

Azog's drug test had been negative, and Thorin had been on his feet the moment Gandalf had told him. 

“And we can’t exactly test his hair,” Bilbo mumbled, pulling his feet up on the couch and curling his arms around his knees, watching as Thorin tried to wear a hole in the carpet.  
  
“No,” Thorin spat. “And Lalaith still refuses to testify and my hearing regarding the suspension keeps being stalled and Dís can’t do anything about that right now since it’s just internal and it’s not yet outside a reasonable time frame, and the union keeps telling me to be fucking _patient_ while Azog is allowed to continue to perform surgery on _actual_ patients.”  
  
Thorin slumped down on the couch, sagging as if someone cut his strings. Bilbo sighed and moved over to straddle Thorin’s lap, Thorin’s hands automatically finding their usual homes on his hips.

“It’ll be okay,” Bilbo promised, pressing a kiss against Thorin’s forehead. “You’ve done nothing wrong, he has, it’ll be sorted out.”  
  
“I wish the world worked like that,” Thorin said, letting out a deep sigh. He tilted his head back, looking up at Bilbo. “But it doesn’t. I’m glad they’re still leaving you alone though.”  
  
Bilbo carefully didn’t mention how he kept catching Azog looking at him. Looking wasn’t- looking was just looking. Instead he smiled and kissed Thorin’s nose. He loved Thorin’s nose.  
  
“Obviously I’m too big and mean to mess with. They wouldn’t dare.”  
  
Thorin snorted which made Bilbo flick him on one ear. “Be nice.”  
  
“Oh I could be very nice,” Thorin said huskily, and his hands migrated from Bilbo’s hips to cupping his arse. Well, this was certainly a great deal nicer than their previous topic. Bilbo did not believe for a moment that Thorin had forgotten it, but if there was time for a distraction he was all for it.  
  
“How nice is that exactly?” Bilbo asked, allowing more of his weight to rest on Thorin.  
  
“We never quite finished our discussion about _begging_.” Thorin smiled when Bilbo’s hands tightened on his shoulders. “I think we ought to.”

“Please,” Bilbo breathed and Thorin chuckled.  
  
“I think you’ve got it the wrong way around.”  
  
“I’m quite convinced there’s no wrong way regarding begging,” Bilbo pointed out as he slid his hands down to begin unbuttoning Thorin’s shirt. Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Oh you know what I mean,” Bilbo huffed.  
  
Suddenly Bilbo found himself lying on his back on the couch, Thorin’s knee planted between his thighs and, most everything else of Thorin planted on top of him.  
  
“So this is also the right way?  
  
“Well,” Bilbo smiled and move his hands to tangle in Thorin’s hair. “Might I suggest the bed? As in bedroom? As in I'm too old for the couch.”  
  
Too old to fall off the couch to be more precise, and one of them was likely to take a tumble if they tried to make love on it, because it wasn’t exactly the widest of couches in existence.

“Ah, so there's a right _place_?” Thorin asked, leaning in to nuzzle the side of Bilbo’s face.

“Certainly,” Bilbo said dreamily, rubbing his cheek against Thorin's jaw. Very quickly after they’d started sleeping together he’d realised how much he loved the felling of Thorin’s beard against his skin. He tilted his head so Thorin could reach  his neck and tried to forget that there was something called beard burn that would make him scowl at himself in the morning.

“Then, if I were to tell you that I'd been harbouring fantasies about your office...?”

“I'm not sure that's a good idea, anyone could-“ Bilbo’s eyes widened as the metaphorical light bulb lit over his head.

“Bilbo?” Thorin asked, pulling back to peer concernedly down at him. “What’s wrong? Am I too heavy?”

“No, no.” Bilbo distractedly patted Thorin’s back. “I just- He’s very sure of himself. And if he uses at the hospital he has to bring the drugs there as well. Do you think he keeps them in his office?”  
  
With a sigh Thorin manoeuvred them so that they were both sitting upright on the couch again, and Bilbo was dimly impressed with the ease Thorin did this, but the majority of his mind was busy considering what Azog might be concealing in his office.

“Whatever you are plotting, stop it right there,” Thorin said tiredly. “It won’t hold up in court anyway if you found something.”  
  
“No, but if the _police_ found something...” Bilbo tapped his hand against one thigh. “But there’s no use before we know that there is something to find. Unless your sister can get them a search warrant on my hunch.”  
  
“If he’s got something in his office it’s probably well hidden. He does see patients there, not to mention that the cleaning people go in and out, and-“  
  
“I’m not proposing that I should just go and ask where-“  
  
“ _You_ should not do anything,” Thorin growled, pulling Bilbo closer to his side. “I will not have you getting into trouble for my sake.”  
  
“But it’s not only for your sake,” Bilbo said earnestly. “It’s for _all_ the people he might injure, even kill. And if I do it while he’s in surgery, no one is going to know.”  
  
“Think he’ll just leave his door unlocked?” Thorin frowned. “He won’t. He’s smarter than that.”  
  
“That won’t be a problem.” Bilbo squirmed a little when Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Um, so you didn’t hear it from me, but Nori can pick locks, and-“  
  
“So you didn’t know that he had brothers, but you know he can pick locks?” Thorin shook his head. “What _have_ you two been talking about?”  
  
“This and that,” Bilbo said vaguely. After Bofur - and Thorin of course, Nori was probably the one he got along with the best of the people working at the hospital. Though apparently not well enough for Nori to share much of his private life, but Bilbo had tried not to take that personally.  
  
“Uh huh,” Thorin said unconvinced. “Regardless, it’s a bad idea.”  
  
“It’s not,” Bilbo said solemnly. “I wouldn’t even really touch anything, I just would need to know it was there.”  
  
“Such a bad idea.”  
  
-  
  
“This is not a good idea. This is a terrible, _terrible_ idea,” Bilbo muttered to himself as Nori fiddled with the lock to Azog’s office.  
  
“I probably could have gotten the key?” Nori offered. “Or we could have done this at night, but that would have made for one hell of an explanation if someone had caught us.”  
  
“No, I mean, this entire thing,” Bilbo hissed. “I told Thorin that it was a good idea, but I don’t know what I was thinking.” He pressed his palm against his chest. “My heart is beating so fast it’s going to come out of my chest at any given moment.”  
  
“Luckily we’re at a hospital, we’ll find someone to fix you right up if that happens,” Nori murmured. There was a small clicking sound. “Here we go.”  
  
Bilbo took a deep breath, then followed Nori into the office. He’d tried to convince Nori that there was no reason for both of them to do this. If someone discovered them Bilbo didn’t want Nori to suffer for it. But Nori had been adamant about not letting Bilbo do it alone.  
  
They started looking behind the books in the bookshelves, moving on to the cabinets and Bilbo sighed at the mess they found in there. “Well, he could be hiding a lot of things here that’s for sure.”  
  
“Let me check this out,” Nori said before Bilbo could begin touching anything. “I can look through it and put it back to how it was before, but not if you’re also going to be poking around. Go check the desk.”  
  
Bilbo did as instructed, but without much hope of finding anything.  
  
“He’s hardly going to keep- that _arrogant_ son of a bitch,” Bilbo breathed when he opened the very first drawer and found three disposable syringes still wrapped in plastic, and next to it, a few plastic bags with white and brown-beige powder. And perhaps most telling of all, a spoon and a lighter. Not that Bilbo was all that familiar with drugs, but he did get cable television, he know what a spoon and lighter meant when placed together in a drawer with suspicious looking bags.  
  
“That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear,” Nori said, coming to look over Bilbo’s shoulder. He whistled softly. “Well, that certainly seems suspicious. Okay, so shut the drawer again and let me wipe the handles and we’ll get the hell out and no one will know we were here.”  
  
Bilbo tensed, because he’d seen enough films to know that something along those lines was said, someone would try and enter whatever place the main characters were in, and then everything would turn into a great big mess. When Bilbo didn’t move Nori nudged him with one shoulder. “Come on.”  
  
Casting the door, and the unmoving door handle, a suspicious look Bilbo moved aside and let Nori shut the drawer and wipe the desk down to erase any fingerprints Bilbo had left. It struck Bilbo as slightly overly cautious, but that was much preferable to the alternative of getting caught.  
  
“I’ll phone the police,” Nori said once they were out of the room and he had locked the door again.  
  
“You don’t have to do that, you’re not-“ Bilbo protested.  
  
“Involved? Affected? Invested in the wellbeing of this hospital and all our patients?” Nori crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “In possession of the authority to actually let the police stomp in and check his office?”  
  
Bilbo’s lips quirked a little at the stubborn expression on Nori’s face. “Fair enough. No wait.” Bilbo knocked his fist against the side of his head. Dammit. “If we report him, he’s just going to say that it’s not his. That someone put it there, maybe he’ll even get someone to confess to it.”  
  
“He might not get away with that.”  
  
“But he might.”  
  
“So what now?” Nori asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Are you telling me that we did that for nothing?”  
  
Bilbo sighed. “I don’t know.”  
  
-  
  
Thorin hated not being able to do anything to help. He hated being forced to wait at home while Bilbo did things that potentially could end with him getting in trouble. Especially since it was trouble that he would never be in if it weren’t for Thorin.  
  
After some deliberation, and a lot of pacing, Thorin pulled out his mobile phone to call Dwalin.  
  
“You working today?”  
  
“You better not be asking because you’re going to come here and-“  
  
“No.” Thorin scowled. “I’m not about to break down and come beat at the doors and demand to be allowed to work.”  
  
“Good on you,” Dwalin said, and damn if he didn’t actually sound supportive. “This’ll be fixed soon enough anyway. They can’t fire you, you’ve done nothing wrong. So what did you want?”  
  
Thorin hesitated. He couldn’t tell Dwalin that he was worried about what Azog would do if he realised that someone had been in his office, or worse, if he somehow caught Bilbo (and Nori, because Thorin didn’t really expect Nori to walk away from trouble).  
  
Thorin wanted to tell him, because he wasn’t used to keeping secrets from Dwalin, more’s the pity, but he didn’t want to put Dwalin in the kind of position where he would have to choose between doing his job and helping a friend. But…

“Could you look out for Bilbo for me?”  
  
“Any particular reason? From what I’ve seen the Doc’s pretty capable of looking out for himself.”  
  
“Just,” Thorin sighed. “Do it as a favour to me. Please.”  
  
Dwalin was silent for a few moments. “If this is about Azog-“ Thorin’s lips quirked, he of all people should know better than to underestimate Dwalin. While it was unlikely that he’d figured out the part where locks would be picked, he’d still seen the bigger picture.  “If you think he’s capable of doing something that you would need me to stop… then  you need to-“  
  
“What, tell someone else so they can accuse me of slander?” Thorin scoffed. “Besides, I certainly _know_ Azog is capable of harming others, only it’s been limited to patients thus far.”  
  
“What does Dís say?”  
  
Thorin sighed. “So far she’s got nothing that’ll hold. We might end up needing to report this on a national level first, get an impartial investigation going.” Which would drag everything out _unbearably_ long. “On a more positive note, I think Bard might actually ask her out soon.”  
  
“She interested?”  
  
“I don’t know,” Thorin said with a shrug. Dís didn’t seem to mind that Bard wanted to talk to her a lot more than was really necessary for anything case related, but if that meant more than that she didn’t mind… that was something only Dís knew. “If she isn’t I guess she’ll says no.”  
  
Dwalin snorted. “Yeah. So, how are things with you and your Doc? Any wedding bells going to be ringing soon? You’d make a lovely bride, you and your hair. You could wear pretty flowers in it.”

“Fuck you,” Thorin drawled, walking over to his favourite armchair and sinking down in it.  
  
“Ah, so you’ve broken it off and is now looking for a pity-shag? ‘Fraid you’re not my type.”  
  
“No, I’m not a bratty redhead am I?” Thorin said casually, smirking when the other end of the line went silent. A moody silence.  
  
“So, how ‘bout the weather?” Dwalin suggested hopefully.  
  
-  
  
Not long after he and Dwalin had disconnected Thorin’s phone rang. The number was not one he recognized, but the area code suggested that it was local, so it could be someone from the hospital.  
  
Normally they might have called on his work phone, but he was not allowed to use that during his suspension… Frowning Thorin answered, hoping that it wasn’t Boromir with bad news.

“Oakenshield.”  
  
“Good day, Doctor Oakenshield.”  
  
“Doctor Saruman?” Thorin’s eyebrows travelled closer to his hairline. “Am I even allowed to talk to you?”  
  
Curumo Saruman was on the board of directors, and as such, someone fairly connected with Thorin’s current situation of being suspended. Particularly considering that Saruman’s influence on the rest of the members could _not_ be said to be inconsiderable.  
  
Thorin also knew that Saruman and Gandalf knew each other from University, or something like that… From a long, long way back anyhow. It was possible that they’d worked together, but Thorin honestly couldn’t remember. He tried to stay as far away from the board of directors as possible, so he didn’t really know more about them then their names and a brief summary of credentials. But the fact that Saruman knew Gandalf made Thorin hope that this phone call would end up being good news after all.  
  
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Saruman replied with a hint of a smile in his voice, as if this was a phone call between close friends, and not two people who had last spoken to each other when one of them was _suspended_ on paper-thin grounds.  
  
Thorin forced his temper down by reminding himself that this could indeed be good news. They were owed some good news by now.  
  
“I needed to speak to you.”  
  
“I don’t think you need to tell me what about,” Thorin said wryly.  
  
Saruman chuckled. “You’ve always struck me as a man who likes the direct approach, Doctor Oakenshield. Would you say that is correct?”  
  
“If that is your way of asking me to skip any pretence that this is _not_ going to be about what Azog has done, and the fact that I want to see him fired, feel free to just say so.”

Thorin got up from his chair and began pacing again.  
  
“The current situation is… unfortunate,” Saruman said, sounding troubled. “You are a good doctor, a very good doctor in fact, and this hospital needs good doctors.”  
  
“Then why-“

“ _This hospital_ ,” Saruman cut in. “-also need people who understand that there are times when hard decisions needs to be made by those who govern and run, to make things go, more… smoothly. If you understand that, there will always be a place for you.”  
  
Not good news then.  
  
“How in the world can keeping Azog employed make things go more smoothly?” Thorin growled.  
  
“Doctor Azog makes a fine addition to our staff at the moment, however, I do not expect him to remain here in a more… long term situation. There will be more interesting things that will catch his attention. Still,” Saruman continued serenely. “ _Accidents_ do happen and what we cannot have right now is this dissent amongst our best and brightest. You are of course more than allowed to move forward with your accusations, but as I believe nothing will come of it, I would suggest that you save us all the time and effort and drop it.”  
  
Thorin didn’t say anything, but he had to consciously release his grip on the little phone or risk breaking it.  
  
“If you do, this entire… incident, will certainly be forgotten. Because none of us would want it to build up into something… severe. Uncontrollable. You know how it is with these things. Accusations begins to fly, and before you know it they spill over to people who you _never_ would have expected would be involved. And when it gets really bad, it doesn’t even end with mere _words_. We wouldn’t want that, would we? Considering that this all stems from an accident. Something that I assume could happen to anyone.”  
  
Thorin’s jaw began to ache from being clenched so tightly.  
  
“Good,” Saruman said lightly after a few moments of silence. “I’m glad we had this talk, and _please_ give my best to Doctor Baggins. And of course to your lovely sister and her darling children. We _always_ appreciate her work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've only got another bit more written now, so one update/day will probably stop now or after tomorrow. But I still feel like focusing on this, so hopefully, you won't feel like you're waiting too long (and I won't forget hobbit!thorin and the courtship-verse either)


	4. Chapter 4

“You think we should what?”  
  
“If we get his phone, that could, I don’t know, give us the number of his dealer? Something useful?”  
  
Bilbo looked narrow-eyed at Nori. “Have you been watching too many detective stories?”  
  
The answer to that was obviously yes.  
  
“It makes sense,” Nori protested. “You just don’t think it’s a good idea because you don’t understand how much information people carry around with them on their phone. Because you still think they are for _calling_ people with.”  
  
“They _are_ for calling people with!” Bilbo threw his hands up, glad that they had chosen to eat their lunch outside, in the middle of a large green area where no one would be able to sneak up on them, and no one would be able to overhear their conversation. And oh dear lord, he had probably been watching too many detective stories as well since he'd been the one suggesting this place to Nori.  
  
“Fine, let’s say that you’re right. How are we going to get it? I assume it’s going to either be in his pocket or be locked away.”  
  
Nori wiggled his fingers and grinned cheekily.  
  
“What _were_ you working with before Gandalf hired you?” Bilbo asked suspiciously. “No wait, I really don’t want to know. Plausible deniability and all that.”  
  
“That might be for the best,” Nori said sincerely and patted Bilbo’s knee. “Seeing as how your future sister-in-law is a lawyer and all that. Eh, don’t protest it,” Nori said as Bilbo opened his mouth. “I’ll bet you that there’s a ring on your finger before next summer. And I’ll bet Thorin is already scribbling Doctor and Doctor Oakenshield in the margins of his prescription pad.”  
  
“Why do you think I’d want to take _his_ name? _If_ , we ever got married,” Bilbo hastily added when Nori’s smirk deepened.  
  
“Well, it’s either that or you getting a tattoo of his name somewhere,” Nori snickered. “No really, I know his type. Sweet as a puppy, but will mark his territory as much as you’ll let him. Needs a firm hand.” The redhead winked. “Maybe save the tattoo for your fifth anniversary? I swear he’ll love it.”  
  
“I’m not getting a tattoo,” Bilbo said firmly.  
  
“Bellybutton piercing?”  
  
“What? No! How is this even relevant?”  
  
Nori shrugged. “It’s hot?”  
  
“I used to have normal conversations before coming to Erebor,” Bilbo moaned. “Ones without piercings and pickpocketing and drugs.”

Nori patted his knee again. “Isn’t this more fun?”  
  
-  
  
“Thorin?” Bilbo called, bumping the door closed behind him with one hip. He’d expected Thorin to meet him at the door, but instead it had just been left unlocked.   
  
He knew Thorin was home, because they’d just spoken over the building’s intercom, or well, spoken might be reaching. Bilbo had pressed a button, said that he was standing outside (which in hindsight was a fairly unnecessary thing to point out) and Thorin had buzzed him in and asked him to come up.  
  
Placing the take-out cartons on the kitchen table Bilbo went back out into the hall and headed towards the living room. It turned out to be empty as well, so Bilbo continued towards the bedroom because unless Thorin was hiding in the bathroom, he would have to be in the bedroom.  
  
It was impossible to tell how someone was feeling from the words ‘come in’, but the blond still had the suspicion that something was amiss. Thorin had sounded… tired. And fine, everyone could be tired, but… Bilbo frowned. There was tired and then there was _tired_.  
  
“Thorin?” Bilbo asked again as he pushed open the bedroom door. “Is there something…” Bilbo blinked. “-wrong?”  
  
Thorin was indeed in the bedroom. Unfortunately he wasn’t involved in any of the fun things to do in a bedroom; like lounging around on the bed and looking like every wet dream Bilbo had ever had. Instead the only thing on the bed was a suitcase… a suitcase that Thorin was filling with clothes.  
  
“What’s going on?” Bilbo asked, confused. “Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes,” Thorin said, not looking up from where he was folding a shirt.  
  
“Um, so the three questions that comes to mind is why, where and _why_?” Bilbo walked over to Thorin, putting his hand on Thorin’s arm. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Saruman from the hospital board threatened you, my sister and my nephews if I didn’t leave Azog alone,” Thorin said tightly, still not looking at Bilbo. “I don’t think I can do that, so I’m leaving. This way I can’t-”  
  
“Wait, he did _what_?” Bilbo reached up to cup Thorin’s face, gently turning his head until they were looking at each other. Thorin’s eyes were… haunted was the only word Bilbo could think of.  
  
“I don’t want you to lose your job,” Thorin said, fisting his hand into the shirt he had only just finished folding, clutching at it until his knuckles turned white. “And I don’t want Dís to lose hers, or for something to happen to her and the boys. Or to you.”  
  
“What did he say?” Bilbo asked, feeling like he had stumbled into an alternate reality where absolutely nothing made sense. “If he made threats we need to go to the police.”  
  
Thorin shook his head. “It would just be my word against his, and he didn’t even say something outright. It was just, he talked about accidents. Insinuated-” Thorin swallowed. “I can’t stay here and just let Azog- I’ll- so I’ll have to leave. Just until I can look at him and not want to-" Thorin cut himself off. "Dwalin will look after you. I’m not going to allow anyone to suffer just because-“  
  
“Because Azog is a horrible, dangerous, doctor?” Bilbo said softly, sitting down on the bed and pulling Thorin down to sit as well, well, more like pulling _at_ Thorin and hoping that he’d go along with it, which thankfully he did.  
  
“Thorin, if you leave, if we don’t get him fired, people _are_ going to suffer. He could have _killed_ that poor woman. Someone will end up dead, sooner or later, if he keeps acting like this.”  
  
“But it’s not going to be _you_.” Thorin let the shirt drop to the floor and turned to look at Bilbo. “It can’t be you.”  
  
“Do you really- would Azog stoop to that? Would _Saruman_?” Bilbo couldn’t believe it. “Messing up someone’s professional life is one thing, and being a horrible doctor… but do you really think… you mean, _murder_?”  
  
“You didn’t hear him,” Thorin said tiredly, entire body slumping as sudden as if the strings holding him up had been cut. It didn’t make him look small exactly, because he wasn’t, but it made him look _less_.  “It wasn’t even what he said, it was _how_ he said it.”  
  
When a large hand covered his where it rested on his thigh, Bilbo leaned into Thorin’s side and put his free hand on top of Thorin’s, squeezing it gently.  
  
“Whatever you found today in Azog’s office-“ Thorin said quietly.  
  
“Drugs,” Bilbo said with revulsion. “Like we thought.”  
  
Thorin nodded. “They are just going to find a way to cover it up if you report it.”  
  
“They?”  
  
“Saruman can’t be in on this alone,” Thorin explained. “I don’t know _why_ they are covering up for Azog, what he might have on them to pull this kind of sway, but Saruman couldn’t manage it alone. There’s got to be others on the board as well.”  
  
“We -Nori and I - might have come to the realisation already that we needed more proof before going to the police,” Bilbo admitted, tensing a little where he rested against Thorin’s shoulder. “And, erm, I realise that this might not be what you wanted to hear, but Nori and I might have stolen Azog’s cell phone today.”  
  
The last bit was as much blurted out as actually said.  
  
Bilbo wasn’t sure if telling someone bad news was helped by telling them _quickly_ , but maybe it was like ripping off a Band-Aid?  
  
“You did _what_?”  
  
Or maybe not.  
  
“It was mostly Nori…” Bilbo said guiltily. “I just, played the part of the distraction.”  
  
They’d reasoned that if Nori took the phone from Azog’s locker it would be obvious that it had been stolen, but if it disappeared out of his pocket, then perhaps it could just have been… lost. And no one could be blamed for that. Even if Azog suspected something, he wouldn’t know who had taken it.  
  
Bilbo hadn’t really believed Nori at first when he’d said that Azog wouldn't notice the disappearance of his phone, but after Nori had stolen Bilbo’s phone three times, two of those when he’d actually been waiting for it, the blond had been convinced.  
  
“Distraction?” Thorin asked in a strained voice.  
  
“I just talked to Azog, while Nori-“ Bilbo wiggled his fingers and tried not to shiver at the memory of Azog looking at him with those terrible eyes of his.  
  
If described, Azog’s and Thorin’s eyes could both be said to be a pale blue, but that was an _extremely_ lacking description because Thorin’s eyes were absolutely _nothing_ like Azog’s.  
  
When Thorin looked at him, Bilbo felt warm, he felt loved, and wanted. Cared for.  
  
When Azog looked at him, Bilbo felt like prey.  
  
“It was all very public,” Bilbo explained quickly, wanting to reassure Thorin. Hoping that he _could_ reassure Thorin.  
  
He hadn’t even needed to approach Azog, instead they’d counted that Azog would approach _Bilbo_ if he was conveniently sitting by himself on a bench in a hall that Azog would have to pass on his way from the operating room. However, that part of the story, and that Azog had indeed stopped to make some rude comments about Thorin, and how the look in Azog’s eyes had made Bilbo feel like a thing and not a person… that Thorin probably didn’t need to hear. It wouldn’t really help the situation.  
  
“And he’d placed his phone in his back pocket, and his trousers were baggy, so Nori had no trouble at all really. And no one saw anything. Nori is very good at-”  
  
Thorin leaned forward and buried his face in his hands and then his shoulders started to shake.  
  
“Thorin?” Bilbo placed his hand on Thorin’s thigh, leaning in closer. “Thorin, I-“  
  
A snigger. Then another one, then Thorin was almost falling off the bed from laughing so hard.  
  
A little shocked, Bilbo just sat there and watched until Thorin was done, or mostly done, because the occasionally giggle was still slipping out. It struck Bilbo as slightly hysterical, but he didn’t really know what to do except to let Thorin laugh it out. He wasn’t about to slap him or get a bucket of water. Instead he just rubbed circles on Thorin’s back and waited for him to say something.  
  
“You,” Thorin said eventually, straightening up to press his forehead against Bilbo’s. “You are amazing. I’ve never met anyone like you before. Not even someone who’s come close.”  
  
“I told you, Nori was the one who did all the work.” Bilbo’s hands tentatively crept up to rest around Thorin’s neck.  “You’re not upset then? That we took the phone?”  
  
Thorin shook his head.  
  
“He really doesn’t know it was us,” Bilbo said, just in case. “And I wasn’t even nice to him, so it’s not like he’s going to think anything was out of the ordinary. Nori’s got the phone now. Maybe he’ll find something useful.” Bilbo paused, glancing over at the suitcase lying next to them. “Please don’t leave. We’ll find something. We’ll fix this. And by ‘we’ I mostly mean Nori at this point. I think he’s-”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin’s index finger softly came to rest against still moving lips. “I’ll stay.”  
  
“-been a spy or something,” Bilbo paid no attention to the finger pressed against his lips, but after a moment what Thorin had said did sink in. “You will?”  
  
“I will,” Thorin nodded and Bilbo blinked as his brain was forced to do a u-turn.  
  
“I- thank you.”  
  
“No,” Thorin said softly, cupping Bilbo’s face and leaning in for a short kiss. “Thank _you_. But you need to promise me something.”  
  
“We can’t let Azog get away with this,” Bilbo said warily. It wasn’t just the drugs now. Bilbo believed as much as Thorin did that Azog was not suited to be a doctor, addiction or no addiction. He wasn’t just a poor excuse for a _doctor_ , he was by all accounts not a very good excuse for a human being either. Just the memory of Lalaith’s expression when she’d said that she wouldn’t testify against Azog was enough to remind Bilbo of that.  
  
When he’d been sitting on the bench, waiting for Azog to walk by, Bilbo had just observed the ebb and tide of people coming and going. Colleagues and patients and worried relatives and others that he couldn’t quite place in one category or the other. But they all felt like _his_ people. Like he needed to take care of them. Protect them. He might not have worked at Erebor Hospital for even a fraction of the time Thorin had, but he felt like it was his hospital as well.  
  
“Then we need to be careful,” Thorin said, brushing his thumb over Bilbo’s cheek. “I want him out of my hospital. Hell, I want him in jail where he won’t hurt anyone, but more than I want that, I want you to be safe. I want Dís to still have a job and for her and the boys to be safe as well. So if we’re going to take Azog down, no one can know about it until it’s too late to stop. Until we have proof enough. You reminded me that there’s still hope, that there're still ways,” Thorin’s smile was a bit wry. “Even if you did so by stealing a phone and we’re _not_ going to tell my sister about that part.”  
  
“It was Nori’s idea,” Bilbo muttered, but he wasn’t really upset, because Thorin’s smile might be a little lopsided, but it was back and it was genuine.  
  
“Be that as it may,” Thorin said diplomatically. “I want you to promise me to be careful.”  
  
“I’ve been careful all along,” Bilbo protested, then he winced. “Well, except for the bit where I asked Azog if he was using drugs I guess. But I didn’t say anything about it today.” He hadn’t really needed to say much at all, Azog was the type that enjoyed listening to himself talk.  
  
“I’m not hearing a promise,” Thorin murmured. “If you’re already careful, then promising will be no hardship.”  
  
“I promise,” Bilbo said dutifully, only keeping himself from rolling his eyes by reminding himself that Thorin was only acting like this because he was worried.  
  
Whatever Saruman had said had obviously alarmed him. Hopefully it had not been as bad as Thorin believed, and hopefully whatever influence that Azog had on the board of directors would disappear once they got him away from Erebor.  
  
Bilbo had only met Saruman once, back when he’d just started working at Erebor,  and while the man hadn’t seem particularly friendly he hadn’t seemed like a bad person either. Severe and stern yes, but not cruel, not like Azog.  
  
“Thank you,” Thorin said softly, wrapping his free arm around Bilbo’s waist. The blond glanced behind Thorin, at the suitcase that was still sitting on the bed.  
  
“So, you’re really not going to leave?”  
  
“I’m not going anywhere,” Thorin promised. “I- I guess I overreacted.”  
  
Bilbo had his theories about how much sleep Thorin had _not_ been getting, and how that could affect things like the ability to think clearly, but he wisely thought to keep that to himself for now. Instead he hummed noncommittally and leaned in for a kiss.  
  
He’d meant it only as a brief thing. Just a way to connect and show Thorin that he cared, that he was here for him, that he was loved. But that concept rather went out with the bathwater when Thorin made this soft, pleased sound as Bilbo’s lips touched his, and all of a sudden Bilbo found himself straddling Thorin’s lap with his fingers buried in Thorin’s hair - Thorin's pressed tightly against Bilbo's back - and moaning into a kiss which had stopped being deserving of the name brief a fair while back.  
  
Bilbo pulled back to curse beneath his breath as  his knee banged against the side of the suitcase, then he jumped when Thorin shoved the entire thing off the bed to land on the floor with a loud thud.

“Don't worry about it, It’s just shirts,” Thorin mumbled as he fought with the buttons of Bilbo’s shirt. “And I mean that quite literally. I might have been a little distracted while packing.”  
  
“No, that’s a good plan,” Bilbo mused, squirming as Thorin’s fingers brushed over a ticklish spot. “No trousers. I like it.” He scowled down at Thorin’s belt as it was resisting his attempts to get the buckle open. “However I think your belt has mistakenly assumed itself to be of the chastity variety.”  
  
“I’ll make you a deal,” Thorin offered and pulled at Bilbo’s undershirt which had been revealed as the shirt fell open. “I’ll take off my belt if you take off your shirts.”  
  
Bilbo pretended to think about it. “Deal. And how about my trousers for your trousers?”  
  
“Deal,” Thorin said solemnly. “I’ll even throw in my shirt as an extra bonus.  Just to show my appriciation.”  
  
“How kind,” Bilbo said, scrambling backwards to get off the bed and Thorin’s lap. He was not about to give the world's most awkward lapdance, thank you very much.  
  
Underdressing themselves might be a lot more faster and practical than trying to help each other, but it was hard to remember that when Bilbo’s fingers informed him that there was suddenly a lot of Thorin's skin being put on display and how very touchable that skin was.  
  
His hands wanted to map out Thorin’s broad shoulders and stroke down that powerful chest and push him back down on the bed and-  
  
“You’ve stopped undressing,” Thorin informed him and Bilbo blinked up at his lover. “Is the deal off?”  
  
“No, no.” Bilbo quickly pulled his t-shirt over his head and rushed to get his trousers off, pushing down his pants at the same time. Not for the first time, Bilbo decided that he hated socks. And shoes. Because while he he’d taken off his shoes upon entering Thorin’s flat, they were still evil things that pinched and squeezed. And as for socks…  
  
There was just no way to take off your socks that was the slightest bit seductive, Bilbo thought mournfully as he did an undignified hop to get his off as quick as possible. He shot a glare at Thorin just to ward off any snickering; you didn’t snicker at a man who was getting naked for you, but apparently he was wrong to worry because the look in Thorin’s eyes wasn’t amused. It was the kind of look you gave someone before you threw them on a bed and did all sorts of suggestive things to them and Bilbo decided to save time by throwing himself on the bed.  
  
“Now you’re the one not undressing,” he pointed out, turning himself onto his side so that he was facing Thorin.  
  
“I was distracted,” Thorin said huskily, going back to unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“Well so was _I_ when I stopped,” Bilbo said. “And I think I’ve got more to be distracted about.”  
  
When Thorin glanced down at his own; progressively more and more naked, body, (while wearing a slightly confused look) Bilbo did his best not to find Thorin's obliviousness excruciatingly adorable. It didn’t really work.  
  
-  
  
Thorin was trying very hard not to crush Bilbo beneath him, but It was getting increasingly difficult to prop himself up for a number of reasons. Most of the blame could be put directly on Bilbo’s pale - slightly freckled, entirely lovely - shoulders; what with the way he kept trying to pull Thorin ever closer with both arms and legs, not to mention his thighs that were pressed so sweetly against Thorin’s sides, clenching with almost every thrust Thorin made.  
  
Thorin hadn’t ever understood the point of filming oneself while making love, but the thought of getting a proper view of Bilbo’s creamy thighs with their smattering of golden hairs as they squeezed tightly around his hips… that was an interesting thought to be sure.

That thought, and many others like it was also to blame for why Thorin’s arms were shaking slightly.  
  
He _wanted_ , so many, _many_ things. And he wanted to have them all at once before Bilbo realised that he could find someone much better suited to himself, someone who deserved him.  
  
With a groan Thorin let himself collapse onto his elbows, taking Bilbo’s mouth in a deep kiss. Or he tried to, because as with the slight shift of positions, something about the angle of his thrusts must have changed, because suddenly Bilbo shuddered and threw his head back even as the rest of his body arched upwards.    
  
“Oh, yes, yes, do that again.”

Thorin tried his best, and Bilbo’s head remained firmly pressed into the pillows and his neck remained a fascinating line of bared spotless white, practically begging to be marked. Impossible to resist.

 “Oh,” Bilbo said again when Thorin began to suck a mark into his skin. “ _Oh_.”

It did not sound like he minded, it certainly didn’t feel like he minded considering the way he pulled Thorin closer instead of pushing him away, so Thorin made a second mark, this time lightly sinking his teeth in that lovely skin, drawing blood to the surface in what was likely to be a spectacular bruise by the morning. He wished he could be sorry about that. But he wasn’t.

“Touch yourself,” Thorin growled against Bilbo’s neck, kissing his way up over Bilbo’s jaw and to his panting mouth. “For me. I want to feel you come.”  
  
“Sounds like, a plan,” Bilbo said huskily between increasingly ragged breaths. “But I, I want to feel you too.”  
  
“Trust me, that’s not going to be a problem,” Thorin said as he tried to not come right then and there.  
  
“That’s a deal then,” Bilbo smiled, but the smile disappeared into a pretty moan when Thorin managed to angled his thrusts slightly more upwards.

“Come on,” Thorin murmured softly into Bilbo’s neck. “For me. _Please_.”  
  
“Ah, I thought I told you that begging was unfair,” Bilbo groaned.  
  
“I believe you said that there was no wrong way when it came to begging,” Thorin said smugly.

“I don’t know _what_ I was thinking.”  
  
Thorin hid a grin and brushed a kiss against the lobe of Bilbo’s ear. To his surprise the hand that’d been moving between them abruptly froze and Thorin trembled as Bilbo’s body clenched around him. That, together with the sudden spurts of wet heat between them and the look of pleasured surprised on Bilbo's face, was enough to push him right over the edge as well.

A few minutes later, after they’d remembered how to breathe and Thorin had made a very careful mental note about Bilbo’s ears, Thorin stroked two fingers softly over the bruised spots on Bilbo’s neck in quiet apology.  In response Bilbo shuddered beautifully and threw a leg over Thorin’s thighs, pressing himself even closer.  
  
“This doesn’t mean I think tattoos are a good idea,” he told Thorin’s collarbone sternly and Thorin’s brows knitted together in confusion.  
  
“Tattoos?”  
  
“ _Nope_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so when I had that last - break, how many thought I’d stop the scene right there? Fess up. ;) 
> 
> *pokes diemarysues and syxx*


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lookit! I did manage a chapter today as well.

“So at first glance there wasn’t really much on the phone,” Nori explained. “But once I got the deleted text messages back things got more interesting.”  
  
“They’re not gone? You can get those back?” Bilbo asked sceptically, looking down at the phone that was resting in front of Nori on the kitchen table.  
  
It felt rather absurd to sit in Thorin’s apartment and discuss things that sounded like they belonged in a film, but apparently reality did not care one bit about Bilbo’s feelings about that, because Nori had indeed rung him that morning and asked to meet, and now they were indeed sitting together and having coffee and Nori was explaining things that might as well have been from a science fiction film. (Or just a normal film, because admittedly, Bilbo's grasp of modern technology begun and ended with the machines found inside the OR.)  
  
“They’re not gone, nothing is gone unless you wipe the memory by writing over the-“ Nori sighed when Bilbo and Thorin both stared uncomprehendingly at him. “Never mind. What’s important is that I found a load of texts that he’s sent, most are just a time and a place. And he’s not just sent them to only one number.”  
  
“Then he buys his drugs from lots of dealers?” Thorin questioned, but Nori shook his head.  
  
“If this is him buying drugs then he’s either stocking up for the next couple of years, or he’s burning through it at a rate that wouldn’t let him even _pretend_ to be clean. I think he’s selling.” Nori shrugged. “Using as well, considering what Bilbo saw and what we found, but definitely selling.”  
  
Thorin’s mouth twisted in distaste. “I already knew that he was a miserable excuse for a doctor, but this…”  
  
Bilbo took a sip of his coffee just to do something. Again the feeling of unreality came and nudged at him.  
  
He’d been kidding, mostly kidding anyway, when he’d told Nori that before coming to work at Erebor his life had been normal. The part of it being normal wasn't wrong, but he didn’t regret agreeing to Gandalf’s job offer.  How could he when it had not just given him opportunity to help so many more children than he ever could have if he'd stay at the Shire, not to mention that it’d given him Thorin. But still, he’d never expected to have this type of conversation, that was for sure.  
  
“Oh it gets worse,” Nori smiled without it reaching his eyes. “None of the numbers are actually listed in his contacts; so they’re just _numbers_ ,” he clarified and Bilbo huffed. He knew perfectly well how a contacts lists worked. The time when he’d accidentally gotten his phone to switch all the names around had clearly been a technical malfunction.

“But some of them I recognize.”  
  
“From the hospital?” Thorin asked, and Nori nodded grimly.  
  
“Angmar Carn, Theoden King, Gríma… whatever his last name is; he’s Theoden’s secretary at any rate. That weasly little fellow that’s always skulking after him, looks like he needs about two weeks of sleep just to get rid of the first layer of bags beneath his eyes.”  
  
“Board members,” Thorin said darkly, making Bilbo look back up from his cup in surprise and Nori sighed.  
  
“Not Gríma but yeah, that’s the main idea here, and there’s a few others as well. Once I started matching numbers I found Bill Ferny and Berúthiel Falastur.”  
  
Bilbo looked over at Thorin whose face seemed to be set in stone. “How many board members does Erebor have in total?”  
  
“Thirty,” Thorin said darkly.  
  
Bilbo bit his lip. “So four out of thirty, does that really explain how Azog keeps not getting fired?”  
  
“Not really,” Nori said before Thorin could reply. “But I think I’ve found the answer to that as well.”  
  
“Then tell us,” Thorin commanded and Bilbo bit his bottom lip when he noticed how tight Thorin was clutching his own coffee mug.

“Saruman’s number is here as well, and-“  
  
“ _Saruman_ is buying drugs?” Thorin growled. “That son of a-“

“Just wait a second,” Nori picked up the phone and poked at it until it apparently did what he wanted. “So Azog wrote: ‘ _I need more’_ and  to that Saruman replied: ‘ _Tuesday._ ’”  
  
“You think..?” Bilbo asked slowly,  putting two and two together and regrettably ending up at four, and Nori grimaced.  
  
“There’s more similar texts, and mentions of someone just called G, who needs to help with the ‘distribution’. I’m thinking Gríma, but that’s just a guess. Still, everything seems to point towards the conclusion that Azog isn’t the real problem here.” Nori tapped his fingers against the shiny screen of the phone. “It’s not that Saruman is protecting Azog, he is _using_ Azog. I think he’s giving Azog drugs to use and sell, and then…” Nori shrugged. “Blackmail most likely. Do as I want, vote as I’d like, convince your peers, otherwise the wrong people will know that you use drugs. Or maybe just the threat of no more drugs is enough. The people on the board might not even know Saruman is involved. That's the whole point of making someone do the dirty work for you.”  
  
-  
  
Thorin was counting, _very_ _slowly_ , to ten, trying to keep at least a small amount of control over his temper. He was not going to throw his coffee mug to the floor. He was not going to slam his fist down on the table. He was not going to go to the hospital and shove Azog and Saruman down the nearest staircase. Or elevator shaft. Or out the nearest window. The latter only because they might land on someone poor unsuspecting person. And the two former because he didn't want to be that kind of person.  
  
Or, that was wrong. He desperately wanted to be that kind of person. But that kind of person wasn't someone who Bilbo would want to curl up to at night.

“Could we use the phone as evidence?” Bilbo asked Nori and Thorin took a deep breath and slowly let it out. If it hadn’t been for Bilbo’s presence, then Thorin’s kitchen table would probably not still be standing. And if Bilbo hadn’t stopped him the other night, then Thorin wouldn't even have been sitting in the kitchen.  
  
It all seemed rather silly now, but he’d really managed to convince himself that leaving was the only option. All other solutions only seemed to end with the people he loved being hurt because of him. Perhaps only in the sense that Bilbo and Dís both lost their jobs, but… he didn’t doubt for a second that Saruman had been hinting about something worse. But he hadn’t left, and he wouldn't go to the Azog and do something that he would later regret, and now they needed a plan to get both Azog and Saruman away from the hospital before Thorin changed his mind about that last bit.

Nori looked wary. “Even disregarding that we didn’t really acquire it legally… It would have been helpful if there was a text from him explicitly stating: come buy drugs, meet me under the old maple tree at midnight.”  
  
“I will ask Dís,” Thorin said, lips quirking the slightest bit as Bilbo mouthed ‘maple tree’ with a confused look on his face.  “No I won’t tell her that you have it,” he added when Nori was about to protest. “Just… _hypothetically_.”  
  
“Do it now then, because I’ve actually got an idea about how to go from here.”  
  
“Um, is it a _good_ idea?” Bilbo asked carefully.  
  
“I guess we’ll find out.”  
  
-  
  
“Dís,” Thorin said after his sister had picked up. “You’re on speaker, Bilbo and-“  
  
“Hi, Bilbo!”  
  
“ _Nori_ , is here with me.”  
  
“Hello, Nori,” Dís said cheerfully. “You still owe me a dinner.”  
  
“Dinner?” Thorin asked with a dark look at Nori who held up his hands.  
  
“I’m not about to elope with your sister, if that’s what you’re thinking.”  
  
“You better not,” Thorin muttered, and Bilbo nudged him with one elbow.  
  
“Perhaps I get to decide that,” Dís said pointedly, and Bilbo nudged Thorin again when he scowled. “But anyway, I guess this isn’t why you called me.”  
  
“Hypothetically…” Nori said with a bright grin down at the phone, and the look on Thorin’s face clearly stated that he _dearly_ hoped that grin was just a ‘I’m happy because I know I’m pissing off Thorin’-grin, and not ‘I’ve had sex with the woman I’m talking to’-grin. Bilbo rather thought it was the former, because he had gotten the impression that Nori was already seeing someone. A guy someone even.  
  
“Would a stolen phone still count as evidence against the owner of it? Let’s say if the phone were to contain text messages of a… _questionable_ nature.”  
  
“Yes and no,” Dís replied, and Bilbo was surprised that she didn’t ask for more background information. Then again, it was hardly the first time she and Nori had been discussing legal issues. And Bilbo wasn’t even sure it had all been hospital related...  
  
“The problem is that text messages can’t be attributed to a specific person. Anyone can get your phone and send a text on it, and it’s impossible to prove who sent it. But it’s not wholly without merit. Not if it’s messages spread out over a longer time period, since that makes it less likely that someone other than the owner used it, and if there’s also other substantial evidence to clear the way.” Dís paused briefly. “It doesn’t really matter if the phone is stolen since I’m assuming this is about the big pale elephant in the room, unless you’ve somehow stumbled into a civil case-“  
  
“Nothing civilized about that man,” Thorin muttered, not even bothering to deny Dís’ assumption.  
  
“-because as far as criminal law goes, the aspect of the invasion of said elephant’s privacy would be overlooked.”  
  
“How about screen shots?” Nori asked. “Or a copy of the memory?”  
  
“Not quite as good, but usually good enough considering that this is just going to be inferred evidence anyway. You need something else though, something better, or it’s never going to get to a conviction.”  
  
“Aren’t we lucky I have a plan then,” Nori said with a grin. “Bye Dís! Thank you for your help.”  
  
“Hey, wa-” Dís protested as Nori pressed the end-call button.  
  
“She’s a lawyer,” he pointed out when Bilbo frowned in confusion and Thorin huffed exasperatedly. “As in, someone who shouldn’t really be listening when I start talking about less hypothetical things.”  
  
“Start talking then,” Thorin said, crossing his arms over his chest. When his phone rang again all three of them looked down. Unsurprisingly, the screen proclaimed it to be Dís.  
  
“Don’t answer that,” Nori said and put it on mute and handing it to Bilbo. With a sigh Thorin nodded and Bilbo accepted the phone and put it in his pocket for safe keeping. He could just have given it to Thorin, but perhaps it was best not to just in case one of Dís' superpowers was mind control. Bilbo would surely be less susceptible since he'd only met her the once.  
  
“I’m not hearing a plan yet,” Thorin grumbled.  
  
“Okay,” Nori said and rested one elbow on the table, supporting his head with it. “So tomorrow I’m going to make sure that the phone finds its way to the hospital's Lost and Found- Hear me out,” the redhead said as both Bilbo and Thorin began to protest. “Because _tonight_ I’ll have a friend fix this phone so when Azog gets his hands on it again, we’ll be able to see and hear everything he uses it for.  
  
“You’re going to hacker it?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“We can call it that.” Nori sighed. “And you’re so damned lucky you’ve got me on your side.”  
  
“Is this legal?” Thorin asked, and Bilbo tilted his head, because, was it?  
  
“We can check with Dís later, but if a stolen phone can be evidence, why not a stolen conversation?” Nori shrugged one shoulder. “Plus, I’m hoping that this will just be a step towards some real evidence. If we know _when_ Azog is going to sell, or get, drugs, that’s a chance to catch him in the act. Especially if we can figure out the where. And then we, or rather, someone who is allowed to arrest people can be there.”  
  
“So there was nothing in the phone about where he usually meets people?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“Just ‘the usual place’,” Nori explained. “As I said, ‘beneath the old maple tree at midnight’ would have been more helpful.  We know what the needle looks like, but we’ve not found the haystack yet.”  
  
“I’m not sure if giving back the only real evidence we have is a good thing,” Thorin said. “We know he’s selling drugs, we could just follow him.”  
  
“Because that’s not suspicious and obvious at all,” Nori scoffed. “He could be doing it while at the hospital, and you two aren’t really known for seeking him out. If you start popping up everywhere, don’t you think that’s a tad strange? No, what we need to do is to get him, and Saruman, to let their guard down. And speaking of, you should withdraw your report.”  
  
Bilbo blinked. Thorin on the other hand, didn’t settle for something so quiet to express his surprise.  
  
“What!?”  
  
“If you do that, they’ll think they’ve won.”  
  
“Isn’t that a bit suspicious?” Bilbo asked. “If he just started-“ the blond waved his hand around in a way he hoped signified the act of Thorin being even remotely nice to Azog.  
  
“I’m not saying that Thorin should hand the phone to Azog with a smile and tell him that everything is forgiven. Azog’ll get the phone back tomorrow, or the day after that, and then maybe on Monday Thorin could call Saruman and say that he’s dropping the malpractice accusations. It's what they want, and so far, my understanding is that they've gotten what they wanted.”  
  
“I will not,” Thorin snarled.  
  
“You’re missing the bigger picture,” Nori said insistently. “Azog _isn’t_ the big picture. _Saruman_ is. Even if you get Azog convicted, that’s still going to leave Saruman in his cosy seat on the board. And do you really want a man on the hospital board of directors who thinks that _drugs_ are a good crowd control? Because I don’t. I really fucking don’t.”

“So what you’re saying?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“We could use Azog against Saruman. Get him as a witness, and-“

“Let him off with a slap on the wrist for good behaviour?” Thorin sneered.

“He’d lose his license,” Nori said. “At the very least that would happen. And Saruman would go to jail. And hopefully the ones on the board who needs it will get help and rehabilitation.”  
  
“You’re assuming that Azog has any evidence,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “Otherwise it’s just word against word. A disgruntled drug addicted employee lying to get his revenge. Who would believe that?”

A gloomy silence filled the kitchen. “It’s the best plan we’ve got,” Nori said, then he snorted. “Hell, it’s the only plan we’ve got.”  
  
Thorin looked at Bilbo who shrugged helplessly. “We need evidence. I’m thinking that if we ask Azog nicely we’re not really going to get it.”  
  
“So we’re agreed?”  
  
“Are we telling Gandalf about this?” Bilbo asked as the thought suddenly occurred to him. “Maybe he could-“  
  
“No,” Thorin said shortly. “He’s been able to do nothing so far, what’s changed now?”  
  
When Bilbo looked at Nori the red-head shrugged. “He wouldn’t tell anyone, but yeah… After they suspended Azog’s suspension, the board made it fairly clear that they wanted no more unnecessary _disruptions_. I don’t want to get my boss fired before we can fix this, and I’m not sure he could just sit on the side-lines. He’d confront Saruman, and that… that would not be good.”  
  
“I think we should tell Bofur,” Bilbo said, and Thorin frowned. “He knows almost everyone, he might hear something important without even knowing it,” Bilbo explained. “He could help.”  
  
“You sure he can keep his mouth shut?” Nori asked and raised an eyebrow.  
  
“If we asked him to.”  
  
Thorin nodded reluctantly. “Bofur is a good man.”  
  
“We’ve got a plan then.” Nori lifted his coffee mug. “Cheers.”  
  
-  
  
When Thorin phoned Saruman to tell him that he was going to accept that Azog had made a mistake (for a good three hours afterwards the call, Thorin’s left palm had been decorated with four red crescents from where his fingernails had dug into to soft flesh) he had expected the man to gloat, or at least sound smugly superior. Instead there had been a short silence over the phone. Then:  
  
“You’re doing the right thing, Doctor Oakenshield,” Saruman said kindly. “It’s like I said before, Erebor needs people like you. I’m glad to have you back.”  
  
“So I’m allowed to start working again?” The hope in his voice was unfortunately not all for show and Thorin quietly cursed himself.  
  
“I’ll make sure things get sorted out as soon as possible,” Saruman promised. “On Wednesday at the latest. I’ll be in touch.”  
  
After hanging up Thorin looked down at his phone much in the same way someone would look down at a slug they’ve just realised that they were holding, and only barely resisted the urge to drop it on the floor and stomping on it.  
  
"Are we really doing the right thing?" he asked Bilbo who was curled up on the couch.  
  
"I wish I knew," his lover sighed. "But I think we are, if that counts for something."  
  
Thorin nodded. "Very well then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to call me out whenever you feel I'm not making sense. Then again, I guess some of you might have read the animal!AUs and after that... well, one's sense for what makes sense is rather thrown out of whack.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey look, there's more of this.
> 
> PSA: Azog really isn't a nice guy, if there's anyone who's missed that info.

Thorin had spent his first day in almost two weeks at Erebor. It wasn’t the longest he’d been away; the vacations Gandalf made him take usually lasted a bit longer, but it was different when the being away part included a certain element of not being allowed to come back.  
  
His colleagues had been happy to see him, even Beorn had slapped him on the back and growled out a: “Welcome back.” Thorin just wished that he could be as relieved as Boromir had been to be able to return the department into Thorin’s hands once again.  
  
“Thank fucking Christ,” he'd said as Thorin knocked on his open office door and stepped inside. “I mean it, Thorin. Don’t do this to me again.”  
  
Thorin had been reliably informed that Boromir had done a very good job sorting everything out during his absence, so he merely raised an eyebrow.  
  
“No, no, no,” Boromir said, pushing the chair back from his desk and getting to his feet. “I’m not made to sit in meetings. I’ve been dreaming nightmares about a huge fucking eye watching me and being judgemental. Please tell me this isn't going to happen again.”  
  
“I’ll do my best,” Thorin promised drily, thinking about Saruman and Azog and what he was willing to do to get those two away from Erebor.

If Saruman had been reserved in his pleasure to - as far as he understood it - win, Azog had not. Oh, he hadn’t _said_ anything, but it felt like his grin had followed Thorin around all day; like an even more twisted version of the Cheshire cat, able to leaving a slimy, gloating residue all over him.  
  
That, and the dirty feeling Thorin got from giving in to extortion; even if it would hopefully be for the greater good in the end, was why Thorin was in the shower when Bilbo called that same evening.  
  
Swearing, Thorin stumbled out of the stall to get the phone, because thanks to Dwalin he knew that it was indeed Bilbo who was calling, which meant that he wanted to answer; for more than one reason.  
  
Dwalin had somehow managed to change the ringtone to something extremely annoying, and Thorin hadn’t yet figured out how to change it back, which meant that Thorin now had an extra incentive to pick up the phone as quickly as possible when Bilbo was on the other end of the line.    
  
 _‘When I think about you I touch myself, Ooh I don't want anybody else Oh no, oh no, oh no.’_

Really, he _needed_ to change it. But there’d been no options for it in the options menu, just the ability to change the main ringtone (and changing that did nothing), so Thorin was stuck with it until he found someone to help him, someone who wouldn’t laugh themselves to death which ruled out most of the people he knew.

_‘You're the one who makes me come running.’_

And Bilbo thought that it was _Dís_ who might be a super villain.  
  
“Hello?” Thorin said, a little breathlessly, into the phone.  
  
“Hi,” Bilbo said. “Am I… interrupting something?”  
  
Thorin looked down at the puddle of water he was creating in the hallway and let the towel he’d grabbed fall to the floor so he could step on it. “Nothing important.”  
  
Bilbo hummed a little sceptically but apparently decided to take Thorin’s word for it. “Can I come over once I’m done for the day? I think we start about the same time tomorrow so-”  
  
“You are more than welcome to come here tonight,” Thorin said softly, only _barely_ managing to keep the offer for Bilbo to move in to himself. It was too soon, they’d not been together that long. Hell, they’d not known each other that long. And above all, Thorin really needed to tell Bilbo that he loved him first. Maybe… he could do it tonight?  
  
He couldn’t make a romantic dinner with delicious food, and a good wine, because he was much too tired to cook, secondly he was not that great at cooking to begin with, and the wine would be a no-go since they would have to work the next day and Thorin had a very strict policy on combining alcohol and work.  
  
But… he could get take-out, and they could get comfortable on the couch, and Bilbo could make fun of some bad film, (it was entirely possible that Thorin had bought a television for the sole purpose of allowing Bilbo to use it) there could be candles, and maybe…  
  
“Thorin?”  
  
Thorin realised that Bilbo had been speaking and that he’d effectively had been ignoring his lover. Yeah. Not the best start for his plans.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Thorin said regretfully. “My mind wandered.” No need to share just where.  
  
“It’s all right,” Bilbo said warmly. “I was just wondering if I should bring food?”  
  
“I thought I could pick it up,” Thorin said. “It would make you arrive here faster,” he added with a smile.  
  
“Ah, I see your cunning plan,” Bilbo said and Thorin snorted because he was after all standing naked in his hallway, on top of a towel that was just barely stopping him from making a small lake on the floor _and,_   since he’d been in the middle of washing his hair, he likely looked a fright with suds everywhere. Cunning was the last thing he would admit to being.  
  
“What are you in the mood for?”  
  
“I’m very fond of tall, dark-haired grumpy surgeons,” Bilbo said innocently and Thorin barked out a short laugh.  
  
“I’ll tell Boromir you said so.”  
  
“I was indeed thinking about Boromir,” Bilbo teased. “He’s been _awfully_ grumpy these last few weeks.”  
  
“So I gathered,” Thorin replied. “But from what I was able to see he’s done a fine job.”  
  
“You’ve been missed,” Bilbo stated simply. “And not only because Boromir almost locked himself in his office when Nori gave him his new schedule. Or... so I hear.”  
  
“It was good to be back.” Thorin shivered as his body informed him that he was still naked and wet. He was just pondering how to convey the gist of this to Bilbo without mentioning the naked and wet part, but then he heard someone calling for Bilbo in the background. Saved by... whoever that was.  
  
“Duty calls,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “But I’ll see you in a few hours.”  
  
“I’ll get Korean,” Thorin said. Their very first dinner together had been Korean, to repeat it would be romantic, right?  
  
“Sounds wonderful. Bye then.”  
  
“Bye,” Thorin said and tried to sound as not-naked and not-wet as possible. This had not been a good day for his dignity.  
  
-  
  
“- no, don’t go that way,” Bilbo scolded the characters on the telly. “It’s clearly- no, don’t split up! Oh dear lord… Why is-“ Bilbo turned to Thorin only to find him deeply asleep.   
  
It was a rather endearing sight. Even in his sleep Thorin tended to look a bit… cranky. Rather in a way reminiscent of a child who had been denied candy and who was now sulking with the quiet dignity of someone who knew that they had been most grievously wronged.  
  
There was a small furrow between his eyebrows that smoothed out as Bilbo softly stroked it with his thumb. Still asleep, Thorin mumbled something and turned his face into Bilbo’s hand.

“You are entirely too lovely,” Bilbo told Thorin sternly. “It’s simply unfair to the rest of us.” He very gently stroked one finger over Thorin’s brow. “Horribly unfair.”  
  
“Hmm?” Thorin asked, more breath than word. “Bi-bo?”  
  
“Since you picked the film, I’m not taking the blame for you falling asleep,” Bilbo informed his lover as Thorin blinked awake.  
  
“I’m not sleeping,” Thorin protested. “I was just, resting my eyes.”  
  
“Really,” Bilbo said amused. “Please tell me how the characters got to the deserted island then?” The deserted island full of things that apparently watched them from the shadows and were the reason why no one in their right mind would think splitting up was a good idea.  
  
“Shipwreck?” Thorin suggested, sounding very confident for someone who clearly had been sleeping a good while.  
  
“Not even close.” Bilbo smiled and leaned in closer, and then closer still as Thorin’s arms came to rest over his shoulders. “Why pick this film if you’re clearly not interested in watching it? The _plane_ crash happened a good twenty minutes ago.”  
  
“You like - making fun of bad films,” Thorin said, breaking off half way for a yawn. “My apologies, I don’t know why I’m so tired all of a sudden.”  
  
“My first guess, as well as my second and third, would be: ‘long day’.” Bilbo rested his head on Thorin’s shoulder. “Want to go to bed?”  
  
“I’m now feeling a lot less tired,” Thorin murmured, stroking his hand along Bilbo's arm. He still sounded tired though.

“You sure?” Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Because if you decide to fall asleep during I might take it personally.”

“You’ve always been able to hold my attention,” Thorin said softly, leaning in for an soft, sweet kiss. “Unlike certain asinine films,” he added with a look towards the television where someone just got horribly murdered by something large and hairy.  
  
“I do enjoy watching _good_ movies as well,” Bilbo pointed out. He winced when blood suddenly sprayed everywhere in the film. “No, no, no. If that’s based on his arterial pressure he would have been dead soon regardless. Something would have ruptured.”

“So you don’t mind the-“ Thorin squinted. “Is it a werewolf?”  
  
“It’s not quite clear yet.” Bilbo privately thought it was more like a spirit animal or something along those lines. There had been hints about natives on the islands, and one of the girls had found a pendant shaped like a wolf. Werewolves didn't have pendants, surely?  
  
“ _Suspected_ werewolf then,” Thorin said. “But you will have opinions on how far that poor bastard’s blood squirts?”  
  
“Well, it’s not realistic is it? That thing basically ripped his throat out and that shouldn’t really cause that sort of splatter.” Bilbo knocked his shoulder against Thorin’s when the other man wouldn’t stop smiling. “It _shouldn’t_.” He didn’t want to tell Thorin to stop smiling though, because his lover did it all too rarely.  
  
“I really,” Thorin paused and Bilbo was sad to see the smile melt away into a more serious expression.  “I love you, Bilbo.”  
  
Oh. Well that rather made up for it.  
  
“I love you too.” Bilbo frowned. “Which you know, but I-“  
  
“I don’t mind hearing it again,” Thorin interrupted. “I’ll never tire of hearing it. And I’m sorry for not saying it myself, before now. I guess I was waiting for the right moment-” Thorin smiled wryly when a loud howl was heard from the film. “But, well, I think I was just being foolish.”  
  
“No need to be sorry,” Bilbo said softly. “There’s not- the right moment is always when you feel like saying it. As long as you mean it.” He winced a little after finishing that sentence, because he hadn’t meant it to sound like he doubted was Thorin was saying. He just- you shouldn’t say something like that unless you meant it.  
  
“I very much do.” A warm hand cupped Bilbo’s face and then Thorin leaned in to brush their foreheads together. “I love you.”  
  
“Love you too.”

-  
  
When Bilbo and Thorin walked into the break room they were met by tear stained cheeks and quiet sobs and sniffles.

 "What's happened?" Bilbo asked, walking quickly to where Bofur was sitting and resting a hand on his shoulder. However, his friend couldn’t answer, shoulder’s shaking in stifled sobs.

"Lalaith," Ioreth said with a thick tear-laden voice, and Bilbo looked over at her. "She was, someone ran her over. She's in the OR now."

“Oh no,” Bilbo breathed.

"It's bad," Girion said quietly. "They don't know if she'll make it. The wretch who did it just left her. When someone found her she’d lost a lot of blood."

 "Has someone informed her brother?" Thorin asked, silently coming to stand next to Bilbo.

 Girion nodded towards Beorn who grunted in affirmative. "He’s here already."

Just a short while later Éowyn walked into the room, and Bilbo didn’t even need to look at her face to know what she was going to say.  
  
She wouldn't be here if the surgery on Lalaith had still been on-going, and the only reason for the surgery not to still be on-going was if something had gone wrong. Unless Lalaith was a lot less injured than anyone had assumed.

Though any such notion was quickly discarded when Éowyn's eyes met his.  
  
“We lost her.” Everyone had fallen quiet as Éowyn entered the room, and when she’d finished speaking a wave-like sigh rose and fell in the room, crested by the occasional sob.  
  
Tears burned in Bilbo’s eyes and he blinked furiously to keep them at bay. Lalaith was- had been so young. One of their youngest as she'd been in her late twenties. And usually so bright and happy. After the incident with Azog she’d been more subdued, but-  
  
When Thorin gathered him close Bilbo buried his face against Thorin’s chest, hands fisting in Thorin’s shirt.  
  
“It’s not fair,” Bilbo muttered.  
  
“It’s not,” Thorin agreed quietly. “I know her brother a little, he’s going to take this hard. They don’t have- she was what was left of his entire family.”

“Éomer is with him now,” Éowyn said as she joined them. Bilbo pulled back and dragged the back of his hand beneath his eyes.  
  
At a quick glance there was a world of difference between short, blonde Éowyn (one of the few people shorter than even Bilbo even if it wasn’t by much) and Thorin, especially as Éowyn was quick to both laughter and loud, inspired cursing when something displeased her. But at the end of it all the two of them shared more things than separated them. One of those things was how they carried themselves.  
  
At that moment Éowyn looked like she hadn’t slept for a few nights, long hair pulled up in a sloppy ponytail, but she still had an almost _regal_ bearing that she shared with Thorin. There was something about the two of them that just demanded your attention.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Thorin said and reached out to briefly touch Éowyn’s shoulder. “I know you and yours did everything possible.”  
  
“The world is more quiet and cold now,” Éowyn said and though her eyes glittered no tears escaped.  
  
“Indeed,” Thorin said quietly.  
  
“She will be missed,” Bofur said quietly, and almost too choked up for anyone to hear what he was saying.  
  
“She will be missed,” Beorn echoed, moving to stand beside the smaller man and putting a huge hand on his shoulder.  
  
A lone tear slipped down Bilbo’s cheek and he brushed it away.  
  
-  
  
The rest of the day passed in something close to a fog. An entire department couldn’t just up and leave, they had jobs to do, important jobs at that. But Bilbo was incredibly thankful that he’d not been scheduled to do any surgeries that afternoon. Thorin had been delayed slightly in a meeting so Bilbo sent him a text that he’d be waiting outside. Some air sounded like a good idea.  
  
Bilbo ended up on the small playground a few minutes’ walk from the hospital entrance. He texted Thorin again to let him know where he should look for him and then Bilbo squeezed himself into the tower connected to the bigger of the two slides found in the playground.  
  
He wasn’t quite sure why, but a while back when he'd discovered the playground, he'd also realised that there was something calming about the rounded walls and small circular windows of the tower.  Esme would probably have a few choice words about something Freudian and small holes and phallic shapes, but Bilbo was fairly immune to her theories after the number of times she had tried to figure out why he baked when he was upset about something.  
  
Maybe ten minutes later Bilbo heard footsteps on the gravel and he peered out one of the windows expecting to see Thorin, but instead he saw _Azog_.

Bilbo quickly pulled his head back, hoping that he’d not been seen. He couldn’t deal with Azog. Not today. And neither could Thorin.  
  
They’d been blessed with Azog having been scheduled for an evening shift, which meant that he was only just now coming to start his workday. He would be headed inside to get changed, which meant that he should be gone from the playground long before Thorin’s meeting was finished, and with any luck they’d miss each other in the halls as well.  
  
It would seem that Azog hadn't noticed Bilbo, distracted as he was by talking on the phone; the same phone that Nori had stolen and then returned. And despite himself, Bilbo’s curiosity awoke when he realised that Azog seemed annoyed about something. Nori had told him that what his friend had done had indeed allowed for him to get access to Azog’s phone. Some sort of remote something. Perhaps he could find out what Azog had been-  
  
“As you fucking well know, _I_ didn’t do anything to her, I’d call it pretty damned discreet,” Azog snarled into the phone and Bilbo's eyes widened. “And who are you to-“

The pale man fell silent. “Wait, you really didn’t know I wasn’t the one in the car? But you’ve got this guy following me. And not very discreetly either.” Another pause. “Then who the fuck is he?”

Bilbo did the mistake of moving further backwards, far enough that his back bumped into the wall and even that small noise was enough to draw Azog’s attention.

“Oh, I will,” he told the other person, not looking away from the little tower, and Bilbo swallowed nervously. Damn it all. And what had he just heard Azog say? It had sounded like- like-  
  
“Well, what do we have here,” Azog grinned as he poked his head into the tower. The doorway was too narrow for him to get his shoulders through but that was only a small comfort. “Was someone spying on me?”  
  
“I was just enjoying the quiet,” Bilbo said stiffly. “Before you came along.”  
  
“I’ve seen you looking at me,” Azog said, not paying any attention to what Bilbo was saying. “I’ve been looking at you as well.”  
  
Bilbo’s stomach turned. The idea that Azog would try and _flirt_ with him was just horrid.

“Looking and…” Azog smiled, showing all his slightly pointed teeth. “Wondering what you look like on the inside.”  
  
"Bilbo?" Thorin called, and to Bilbo the sound seemed to come from far, far away. He wanted to turn away from Azog's pale eyes, but he couldn't.  
  
"Maybe I'll find out," Azog said quietly. "If you won't start minding your own business."  
  
Then he turned his head, and as he did it felt like a spell had been broken and Bilbo exhaled in a deep rush.  
  
"He's over here!" Azog called cheerfully, and Bilbo imagined that he could sense the exact moment Thorin noticed who it was that had shouted, because he could have sworn that the temperature dropped.  
  
"Bilbo!"  
  
Now Bilbo could hear the rapid crunching of someone jogging on the gravel.  
  
"I'll be seeing you," Azog nodded as he moved away from the rounded doorway of the little playground tower. And Bilbo's stomach did another slow queasy roll.


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m going to _kill_ him,” Thorin snarled as he helped Bilbo climb down from the playground tower. He could no longer see Azog, which for Azog was bloody fucking fortunate, but Thorin could very well see the shell-shocked expression on his lover’s face. That look was the only reason Thorin clamped his jaws together to stop from saying anything else, and why he didn’t run after Azog to break his worthless neck.  
  
“What did he do?” Thorin asked instead, forcing himself to speak softly. He crouched down front of Bilbo, gently taking hold of hands which were trembling slightly. He'd never seen Bilbo's hands be anything but steady, nor were they usually this cold and clammy. “Bilbo, did he hurt you?”  
  
If Azog had, then Thorin would need to call Dwalin, leave Bilbo with him, and then he would kill Azog. Dís might want to help. Yeah, sounded like a plan.  
  
“No,” Bilbo said slowly. “He didn’t touch me. I’m- fine.”

Thorin bent his head to press a kiss to Bilbo’s knuckles. “I think that’s the first time you’ve lied to me. You’re clearly not fine. What did he _do_?”

“He didn’t touch me,” Bilbo repeated, and then he shivered, even though it was a rather warm day.  
  
When Thorin released Bilbo’s hands the smaller man made a protesting sound and Thorin shushed him gently. He shrugged out of his jacket as fast as he could and hung it over Bilbo’s shoulders.

“Can we go home?” Bilbo asked, looking up at Thorin with eyes that seemed much too big in a face that was much too pale.  
  
“Yes,” Thorin said, wrapping his arm around Bilbo’s waist. “Of course.”  
  
-  
  
Only when they were in the car and half-way to Thorin’s flat did he realise that Bilbo might have meant his own apartment. His lover had barely spoken since they’d gotten into the car, mostly answering Thorin’s gentle queries (which were immensely at odds with the rage he felt smouldering inside his chest) with humming and other non-verbal replies.

“I- did you want to go to your place?” Thorin asked, glancing over at Bilbo.  
  
Somehow they’d gotten into the habit of spending most of their time together in Thorin’s flat. Not to say that they never ended up at Bilbo’s but it definitely happened less often. There was nothing wrong with Bilbo’s flat, they just, they weren’t there as often. But-  
  
Bilbo shook his head.  
  
“Okay,” Thorin said quietly, reaching out to run his fingers through Bilbo’s curls. “Okay. We'll go to mine. Things will be fine."  
  
Bilbo didn't say anything, but he scooted closer, until he could rest his head against Thorin's shoulder.  
  
-  
  
Seemingly on autopilot, Bilbo removed Thorin’s jacket and hung it neatly on a coat hanger. Almost instantly he started shivering again, and Thorin quickly steered him to the couch and bundled him up in a blanket.  
  
The blanket was on the larger side, and it made Bilbo look even smaller than he was. Younger too, and Thorin realised that he really did want to kill Azog. Truly. It wasn’t just blind rage speaking anymore, and the thought scared him.  
  
He was a doctor. Killing someone, that opposed everything that he wanted to be. If he killed Azog, then wouldn’t that just mean that he was _like_ Azog?

“If I tell you, will you promise not to get upset?” Bilbo asked pulling his knees to his chest and clenching his fist into the blanket. Thorin forced anything other than his lover out of his head and let himself sink down on the couch. “Or, you can get upset," Bilbo continued. "I’m upset, but you can’t do anything about it. Not- not now.”  
  
With a sigh Thorin wrapped his arms around Bilbo and half-lifted, half-pulled him into his lap, scrunching the blanket between them.  
  
“I promise,” Thorin said quietly. “Please, tell me what he did.”

“He, I was waiting for you,” Bilbo whispered and despite knowing that his heart was just an organ that pumped his blood to the other parts of his body, Thorin’s felt a physical pain in his chest at Bilbo’s words. Conveniently located where his heart was.  
  
Bilbo had been waiting for _him_ , and he hadn’t been there. He’d been held-up in a fucking meeting, and he’d not been there for Bilbo when he needed him. He’d-  
  
“Then I heard someone walking, and it was Azog. He was talking on the phone.” Raising his head from Thorin’s chest, Bilbo turned it so they could look at each other. The blond still looked much to pale, but some of the spark in his eyes was back. “Thorin, I think he’s the reason Lalaith’s dead.”  
  
“ _What_?”  
  
“He was talking to someone, about how _he_ hadn’t been the one driving, how _he_ hadn’t done it, done anything to _her_.” Bilbo hesitated, fingers fiddling with the edges of the blanket. “He didn’t mention any names, or really anything more than that. Maybe Nori can get the rest of the call? The person he was talking to might have said something more.”

Thorin didn’t know what to say. He was still angry, oh, he was so damned _angry_ , but instead of burning like before he now just felt cold.  
  
“What else did he say to make you look like that?”  
  
When Bilbo looked away Thorin knew that he’d been right. There had been something else. That fucker had done something else.  
  
“He threatened me." Bilbo swallowed. "I was just sitting in the tower, waiting for you. He came, talking on the phone like I told you, I made a noise, and he realised I was there. So he told me to mind my own business.”  
  
That wasn’t the whole story, no, but Thorin didn’t want to press Bilbo for the details. And he wasn't sure if his heart could take hearing that Bilbo had been waiting for him, and how he'd failed his lover, many more times. Instead he tucked the edges of the blanket back around the smaller man and tucked Bilbo’s face into the crook of his shoulder.  
  
He started carding his hand through Bilbo’s tousled curls, very slowly and gently, not wanting to hurt him by getting caught in a snag. He loved Bilbo's hair. He loved how the curls coiled around his fingers like they enjoyed that he touched them. He loved how his touch usually made Bilbo sigh contently and melt into him. He loved Bilbo.  
  
And he hated Azog for being the one responsible for the tense way Bilbo was sitting. Like he expected an attack.  
  
“He’s dangerous,” Bilbo whispered against Thorin’s throat. “I didn’t- we need to tell someone. He can’t be allowed to-“ Suddenly Bilbo flailed, just barely avoiding smacking Thorin as he sat straight up. “He was going to _work_. He can’t be allowed around patients. How could we just leave?”

“I’ll call Nori, he’ll think of something,” Thorin said and captured one of Bilbo’s waving hands. His lover was right, Azog shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near the hospital, but Thorin didn’t regret leaving with Bilbo. He couldn’t regret it if the alternative had been Bilbo continuing to look into empty space with that vacant look in his eyes.  
  
“We should call the police,” Bilbo argued, then he wilted. “But... we don’t have any proof. We still don’t have any damned proof.”  
  
“We'll stop him,” Thorin promised, stroking Bilbo’s cheek with his free hand .  
  
I’ll stop him, he added silently as he tangled his fingers with Bilbo’s and squeezed gently. One way or another.

-

As Thorin listened calmly to the signals going through, he reflected that this probably wasn’t the best idea he’d ever had, but he didn’t think that it was the worst either.

“Welcome to Istari Corporation,” a warm, cheerful voice told him. “This is Linda speaking. How may I direct your call?”

“Curumo Saruman, please.”

There was a brief pause. “Who may I say is calling?” the girl asked.

“Thorin Oakenshield,” Thorin replied, tapping his fingers against the kitchen table.

There was another short pause, then: “Please hold the line, Doctor Oakenshield. I’ll connect you.”

When the music started Thorin almost laughed. He might have if he’d been calling for any other reason. Sure, the music playing was something classical, but who had thought that Beethoven’s fifth was appropriate as the hold music?

“Doctor Oakenshield,” came Saruman’s voice as the music toned away. “To what do I owe-”  
  
“Azog,” Thorin growled.  
  
“I thought we had put all that... unpleasantness behind us.” The man had the nerve to sound upset and Thorin had to take a deep breath before continuing.

“He’s a killer.”  
  
“I don’t understand what you are talking about,” Saruman said after a few moments of silence. “And really, I don’t think this is at all appropriate.”

“Of course not,” Thorin sneered. “Let me put it like this then. You need to leash your _dog_. Or he'll bite someone you do not want him to. Like a young girl who just didn’t know any better. And that’ll mean someone will have to put him down. Someone who does know better.”  
  
Then he hung up. He remained at the table for perhaps a minute longer, before getting up on his feet and walking back into the living room where Bilbo was asleep on the couch. He was still wrapped in the blanket, and only stirred slightly as Thorin lifted him up and carried him into the bedroom.  
  
"Thorin," Bilbo sighed as Thorin gently lowered him onto the bedspread and Thorin leaned in to press a kiss to Bilbo's forehead.  
  
"I'm here, love. Don't worry. Everything will be fine."  
  
Bilbo muttered something he couldn't quite make out, and Thorin kissed him again before going around the bed and curling up behind him. 

Everything would be fine, he'd make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do we think of Thorin's way of handling things? Yay or nay?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so hard to write :( It wouldn't do any of the things I wanted. Hope it's all right, and hopefully the next will be longer, and not as stubborn.

Bilbo pressed the voice mail button as Esme called him for the second time, and curled up tighter in the corner of the couch that he had nested in after finally leaving Thorin's bedroom.  
  
He couldn't talk to Esme yet. Quite honestly he didn’t know what to say if she asked how he was. He couldn’t tell her that he was fine, because he wasn’t really, but he didn’t want to explain why he wasn’t fine either. He didn’t want to drag his cousin into this mess. Not that he could continue to ignore her, so all in all, he would need to figure out what to say. At least his brain had started working again so with any luck it wouldn’t take long.  
  
While he wasn’t fine, he was better. Sleeping a couple of hours had helped. And waking up with Thorin wrapped around him hadn’t exactly hurt either. It'd made him feel safe. Like nothing in the world could possibly get him.  
  
Reading about acute stress didn’t seem to do much to protect you against it, or so it would seem, and Bilbo sighed and wrapped his arms a little tighter around his knees.  
  
Shame, life would be much more practical if that was how it worked. But still, Bilbo wasn’t quite sure why he had reacted like he did. Nothing like that had happened when he was with Doctors Without Borders in Rwanda, and that had not exactly been a walk in the park. And when Smaug… he had not withdrawn into himself when Smaug had hit him.  
  
He’d been shocked, yes, but not… not like he’d been this afternoon. And surely hitting was worse than just threatening? Even if… even if he did think that Azog really wanted to do worse than hit him. _Lalaith_...

The phone rang again, and again Bilbo sent Esme to voice mail. It was fortunate he was still at Thorin’s, she couldn’t just come over, she didn’t know where Thorin lived. Still… perhaps he'd better text her. It'd stop the ringing if nothing else.  
  
‘ _How do I know you’re Bilbo’_   was his cousin’s reply to the text that he’d sent to prove that he was indeed still alive, just terribly busy, can’t pick up the phone, nope.  
  
Her paranoia would serve him well if he was indeed ever kidnapped and denied use of his phone, but as it were, Bilbo frowned down at the annoying little piece of metal and plastic.

_‘Because all others would be too appalled by your lack of punctuation to continue texting you. Call you later.’_

As he pressed send he heard exaggeratedly loud footsteps coming behind him. Thorin had been broadcasting his actions ever since… since they came from the hospital and they'd woken up together,- not that he needed to, it wasn’t like Bilbo was scared of _him_ , no, he was _fine_. Okay, not fine, but... getting there.  
  
Moments later warm arms slid around his shoulders, gently coaching him out of his curled up state and pulling him backwards against the couch.  
  
Bilbo turned his head to look up at Thorin who had just kissed the top of his head, and the blond wrinkled his nose when Thorin pressed a kiss to it as well.

“Dinner? “ Thorin offered. “I made spaghetti. You should eat. Doctor’s orders.”

 He wasn’t really hungry, but Thorin looked so immensely hopeful that Bilbo found that he couldn’t say no.  
  
“Thank you.” Bilbo smiled slightly and stretched up to press a kiss to Thorin’s jaw. His lips burned for a moment from being rubbed against the bristly beard, but he did it again.  
  
“I’m serious,” Thorin murmured, his arms tightening the slightest bit. Then they tensed and the next thing Bilbo knew they had disappeared. Confused, Bilbo watched as Thorin walked around the couch to crouch at his feet. “You’ve not eaten anything since lunch, and that was hours away,” Thorin said, taking Bilbo’s hands into his own.  
  
“I’m hardly about to starve to death,” Bilbo pointed out, but at Thorin’s disappointed look he relented. “I did say yes .”  
  
“You weren’t moving towards the kitchen. And technically that wasn’t a yes. It was a thank you.”  
  
“So I’m about to starve to death in the next few seconds?” The corner of Bilbo’s mouth twitched upwards as the lines between Thorin’s eyebrows deepened. Really now. Still, Thorin seemed genuinely upset and Bilbo's smile slipped away. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I-“  
  
“Not your fault,” Thorin stated, gently brushing his thumb over the back of Bilbo’s hand. “I should have stopped him. I-“  
  
“Thorin, no, you-,” Bilbo interrupted himself, because words suddenly failed him. “You- I don’t even- Thorin, you didn’t do _anything_ wrong. You weren’t even-”  
  
Something flashed through Thorin’s eyes and he turned his face away.  
  
“- _there_ ,” Bilbo finished, mouth remaining open in surprise. “ _Thorin_.”  
  
“The food’s getting cold,” Thorin said and rose back up from the floor, however before he could head towards the kitchen Bilbo’s hand snagged his shirt.  
  
“The _only_ one who is at fault, is _Azog_ ,” Bilbo said firmly, fisting his hand into the fabric and pulling. “Do you think I blame you for not being there? Because I don’t. Of _course_ I don’t.”  
  
“If I hadn’t been in the meeting, I would have been there, and I could have-“  
  
“No, if Azog hadn’t been a _crazy_ person-” Bilbo shook his head and  pulled even harder on Thorin’s shirttails. “Come here.” And he hoped to all the gods that his brain had indeed started to functioning properly again because this was a conversation that he was _not_ going to screw up.  
  
Thorin grudgingly sat down on the couch and Bilbo quickly scooted over to plant himself in the larger man's lap, winding his arms around his shoulders. It wouldn’t really stop Thorin if he really wanted to leave, but it would definitely make it clear that Bilbo _didn’t_ want him to.

“Okay, repeat after me,” Bilbo prompted. “Bilbo does not blame me, so I shouldn’t blame myself.”

The look Thorin gave him was a mix between exasperation and something that looked a lot like guilt and Bilbo leaned to press kisses to Thorin’s face. Beneath his eyes, on his temple, on an earlobe…”  
  
“I really, don’t, blame, you,” the blond murmured between kisses, and he could feel the ever so slight relaxing of the line of Thorin’s shoulders. “I don’t. I don’t. I’m not saying that it wasn’t awful, but it was not in any way, shape or form your fault.” Taking a deep breath, Bilbo then let it out in a sigh. “And if it means that we can get justice for Lalaith’s killer, that will have made it worth it.”

Abruptly Thorin’s shoulders went back to being only slightly looser than concrete, and Bilbo pressed their foreheads together. “We’re going to make sure that he ends up in jail. We will. If he’s making threats, then he’s careless. What if I had been recording what he said? He’s going to do something, and we-”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Thorin said, and even his voice sounded stiff. “I couldn’t bear it. I don’t want you anywhere near Azog-”  
  
“That’s going to make working tomorrow a bit tricky,” Bilbo said, trying to pretend that it was not a shiver of dread that had snaked its way down his spine just then.

“You’re not going to Erebor tomorrow,” Thorin said firmly, and Bilbo snorted.  
  
“No, I’m pretty sure that I am.”  
  
“You should call in sick.”  
  
“I’m… okay, Thorin. I promise. Look.” Bilbo leaned back, into Thorin’s arms and held up his hands which, thank the gods, were not trembling anymore. “See? And I don’t have any operations scheduled anyway.”  
  
“That’s not why I am concerned,” Thorin murmured, something hot burning at the back of his gaze. “If he as much as _looks_ at you…”

The image of Azog’s pale eyes flashed by, and Bilbo leaned into Thorin once more. “Then he can look, and if he says something again, then I’ll make sure not to let that opportunity pass me by. I’m sure Nori can show me some way to record what people are-.”

“I wanted to kill him,” Thorin interrupted, his voice dark, and Bilbo’s mouth fell open in what he was sure was a very undignified manner. “I- he doesn’t deserve to live. Jail would be too good for him.”

“ _Wanted_?” Bilbo asked as his mind picked up on that particular verb tense. “You don’t want to, anymore?” And who had told his voice to sound so damned hesitant? This was not a particularly good day for his ability to control himself.

Thorin was silent for several long, long moments. Long enough for Bilbo to feel the way his own heart was pounding in his chest.  
  
“The idea of killing someone, even someone like him, it’s the opposite of everything I believe in,” Thorin finally said. “But in a way, I do want to. Still.” The line of Thorin’s shoulders, as well as his spine, now even tenser than before. “ I’m sorry. I know- I’m not- I should go.” He didn’t move though, but he wouldn’t meet Bilbo’s eyes until Bilbo gently cupped his face and gently brought their foreheads together again.  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo said gently. “No. You should stay.”

“I shouldn’t be around you,” Thorin said, sounding absolutely wretched, and Bilbo’s heart ached. “I- but you should stay here.”

“Yes, because I’m perfect being just where I am,” Bilbo said, brushing his fingers over Thorin’s cheek. “With you.”

“But I would have killed him,” Thorin turned his face away. “If he had been here, I would have.”

What to say to that? Bilbo had no idea. He didn’t really think that Thorin would have. But Thorin clearly believed that was the case.

“Would you have regretted it?”  
  
“Probably not as much as I should have,” Thorin said darkly. “And if he ever tries to hurt you-“

“I’m angry too,” Bilbo said quietly. “About Lalaith, about how he scared me, how he treats other people. And I can’t imagine what I’d do if he hurt you. But I know I wouldn’t just be standing around to watch it happen.”

“You wouldn’t kill anyone.”  
  
“Not if there was any other option." The idea of taking a life, as Thorin had said, it went against everything that they believed in. Which was why Bilbo felt more and more certain that Thorin wouldn't have done it. "And you wouldn’t either. Or can you tell me that you planned on killing Azog the next time you saw him? Plan, even?”  
  
“No.” Thorin shook his head. “I- no.” Suddenly he sagged into the couch, as if his strings had been cut. “I’m sorry,” he murmured and Bilbo shushed him.  
  
“Not my fault, and not your fault either.”

“The spaghetti-“  
  
On cue Bilbo’s stomach growled, and he hid his face in the crook of Thorin’s neck. Another fine victory for his self-control it would seem. Or not.  
  
“Pay no attention to it. I’m fine." And to his surprise he found that it was a great deal more true than it had been just minutes ago." It’s been more than five seconds and I’ve clearly not starved to death. The spaghetti is not important.”

“I love you,” Thorin whispered, and Bilbo turned his face enough to kiss Thorin’s neck, his fingers clenching in the soft cotton of Thorin's shirt.  
  
“Love you too.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really want to update this more often, but I'm apparently not doing a brilliant job of it. I got a lovely string of comments on the series, and I think that's what finally prompted me to do something. 
> 
> You can always experiment and see if more comments make me write faster ;) I support scientific research.

“Nori texted me to say he’s coming over.” Thorin hesitated before continuing. “He’s got a recording of the call Azog received when you overheard him. And another one he said we need to hear. Both calls came from Saruman.”  
  
Thorin’s definition and Nori’s definition of ‘need to’ was for the time being a little divided.   
  
As far as Thorin was concerned, Bilbo didn’t ‘need’ _anything_ connected with Azog for the rest of his life. But Thorin trusted Nori enough to think that whatever he wanted to show them would be important. Why else would he offer to trek across town this late, it was almost ten and they all would need to go to work in the morning, if he hadn’t heard something more worthwhile than just Azog and Saruman being malicious bastards. That was not news.  
  
“Saruman?” Bilbo murmured, turning his head too look up at Thorin. He looked so small sitting on the couch, but at least he wasn’t looking quite as sad as he’d done a few hours earlier when sitting in the same spot.  “Why am I not surprised.”  
  
“I can tell Nori not to come, if you don’t want-“  
  
“It’s fine.” Bilbo bit his bottom lip. “Does he know? About how Azog threatened me? You said something about calling him, before? About not letting Azog near any patients.”  
  
Thorin sighed and sat down on the couch, snaking one arm around Bilbo’s waist and pulling the smaller man closer. “Yes, I called him.”   
  
He’d done so before calling Saruman and all in all, Thorin much preferred to talk to Nori. He didn’t want to strangle Nori. Well, not most of the time. “He said he’d take care of it.”

“How can he even do that?” Bilbo asked. “He’s Gandalf’s assistant, I’m not sure how that grants him magic abilities.”  
  
“He’d be appalled that you confuse his skills with magic,” Thorin said with a small smile. “I think a large part of it is that he knows just about everyone. And he can be very convincing.”  
  
If he wasn’t, Thorin would never have attended a single fundraiser as it involved dressing up like a penguin and playing nice with rich, and – much too often - very ignorant, people.   
  
If he ever heard the inane ‘fact’ that humans only use one tenth of their brain ever again it would be too soon.

“I’m still going to say witchcraft.”  
  
Thorin snorted and dug one finger into a ticklish spot on Bilbo’s side, making the smaller man squirm. “Is that your official diagnosis, Doctor Baggins? What would you prescribe?”  
  
“Well Nori has the right to a second opinion of course,” Bilbo said, leaning his head against Thorin’s shoulder and Thorin tightened his arm just the slightest bit. “But he’s a redhead that knows too much. Isn’t that a classic sign of a witch? I really liked that Monty Python sketch when witches all weigh less than a duck. Can we do that?”  
  
Thorin realised that he could be convinced to find a duck and coax Nori into being weighed if it would make Bilbo smile. Perhaps that was not very odd though, in light of the fact that he’d honestly considered killing Azog for him.   
  
Compared to that, making Nori and a duck step onto a scale was fairly inoffensive.   
  
“Hey.” Bilbo nudged Thorin’s side. “No deep sighs in response to my excellent theories.”  
  
“I love you so much,” Thorin said quietly. “It doesn’t matter that I know part of it is just oxytocin and dopamine-“ he winced when he realised how unromantic that sounded but Bilbo just snorted and waved his hand.  
  
“I do know a fair bit about hormones, Thorin. Don’t worry. I’m not going to be offended because you’re a neurosurgeon who _happens_ to know how brain chemistry works.”  
  
“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before.” Thorin raised his hand to trace his fingers along Bilbo’s rounded jaw and up his cheek. “There is very little I would not do for you if you asked, so perhaps you should suspect yourself of witchcraft and not Nori.”

“To my defence, if I could just have enchanted you it’s quite possible that I’d not spent such a long time pining.” Bilbo frowned. “Not that I’d want to enchant anyone into falling in love with me, that’s hardly fair.”

“I’d be your willing victim,” Thorin teased, rubbing his thumb over Bilbo’s bottom lip.  
  
“That’s not very funny,” Bilbo protested. “It’d be as if-“  
  
Thorin smiled into the kiss as Bilbo continued to talk for a second or two before he realised what was happening.

“Now _this_ is witchcraft,” Bilbo mumbled, his words small puffs of warm air against Thorin’s lips. “My train of thought: gone.”  
  
“If you wish to search for hidden birthmarks or extra nipples…” Thorin murmured, in between stealing another kiss. “You are welcome to-“  
  
The doorbell rang, startling them both into sitting up straight like two teenagers who had been caught by their parents.

“I’m fairly sure already you don’t have any extra nipples,” Bilbo sighed. “But thank you, even so.”  
  
\- -  
  
“Nori?!” Thorin exclaimed as he squinted through the peephole.   
  
“ _No, you don’t say_?” The redhead’s voice was muffled, coming as it was through the still closed door.  
  
“When you text someone to say that you’re coming over, you’re usually not minutes away from actually being over,” Thorin pointed out as he opened the door.  
  
“Common miscomprehension,” Nori said with a small smirk playing in one corner of his mouth.   
  
“What if we hadn’t actually been home? Or asleep.” Thorin shook his head. “I’ve not even replied to your text.”  
  
“Where else would you be? Well, at Bilbo’s perhaps, but I figured you were most likely to be here.” Nori raised his hand in greeting as Bilbo walked into the hall. “And look, I was right. And you’re obviously not asleep.”  
  
“Hi Nori,” Bilbo said with a smile before turning to look at Thorin. “You didn’t say he’d be here this quickly.”  
  
“Indeed I did not,” Thorin said wryly. “And you know, what you proposed before in regards to him, it might hold some merit after all.”   
  
“Hey, don’t talk about me when I’m not around to hear all the lovely things you are sure to say about me,” Nori complained. He shrugged off his coat and handed it to Thorin. “Thank you,” he said with a bright smile as he toed off his shoes. Thorin sighed and went to put the coat away as Nori and Bilbo disappeared into the kitchen, the latter more or less being dragged by the former.  
  
Perhaps it wasn’t witchcraft, but no one could say that Nori chose to do things as normal people did them.  
  
\- -  
  
“Okay, first of all, Azog is out of the hospital for a week if you,” he nodded at Thorin. “-pull night on Wednesday and Thursday.”  
  
“Done,” Thorin said shortly. A week was both better and worse than what he’d expected. But he knew they couldn’t keep Azog out indefinitely without a court order.   
  
“Everyone hates me for messing with their schedules, so I hope you’re happy.”  
  
“If you’ve listened to what Bilbo heard Azog talk about, you know why I asked.”  
  
A week was pathetically short in the grander scheme of things, but it would give them a chance to figure out a way to make Azog’s absence permanent, and in the meantime, he’d be unable to injure any patients. Two extra nightshift would be a small price to pay for that, and hopefully the rest of the population would also be safe…  
  
“Yeah…” Nori deflated somewhat. “Bloody hell, Bilbo. And then he threatened you?”  
  
Bilbo licked his lips and nodded.   
  
“I don’t think I’ve got a word rude enough to call him,” Nori mused.  
  
“Call him a killer.” Thorin crossed his arms and rested them on the table. “That’s what he is.”  
  
“And speaking of; time to hear the phone calls, eh?” Nori suggested. “Not that they’re- well, you’ll see. Hear. But sadly this is not going to be the end all of our problems.”  
  
He fished up his phone from his trouser pocket and put it in the middle of the table. After a few moments of fiddling with it the sound of static could be heard. And then:  
  
 _“I believe I have already told you to control yourself.”_ Saruman’s voice was flat and endlessly disapproving. Thorin wanted to punch him.   
  
_“Hello to you too,”_ Azog replied.  
 _  
“Don’t pretend that you do not know what I’m speaking of.”  
  
“I’m sure you’ll find that I know absolutely nothing that I’m not supposed to know.”   
  
_ Thorin’s jaw begun to ache, and he consciously relaxed it from its tightly clenched state. Azog sounded fucking cheerful. _Cheerful,_ about being involved in the death of a young woman.  
  
 _“Did you really have to handle it like that? It was anything but discreet.”_

_“As you fucking well know,_ I _didn’t do anything to her, I’d call it pretty damned discreet.“_ Azog snarled, good mood apparently gone with the wind.   
  
Perhaps it was a result of the drugs, perhaps he was just insane, perhaps something else. Regardless, it made him dangerous, and Thorin shuffled his chair a little closer to Bilbo without really being aware that he did so. __  
  
There was a brief pause, and when Saruman spoke again he sounded a lot calmer than before.

_“Well, that’s good to hear. But you-“_

_“Wait, you didn’t know it wasn’t me? But you’ve got this guy following me. And not very discreetly either.”_

_“I do not have someone following you.”_

_“Then who the fuck is he?”_ Azog asked, frustration evident in his voice.

_“Perhaps you should find out._ Discreetly _.”_  
  
“Oh I will.”

Nori tapped his telephone and the low noise that had lingered after the conversation had ended faded away.  
  
“You know when that took place. And then there’s the call that happened just a couple of hours ago.”

“Wait a moment,” Thorin said as the redhead moved to touch his phone again. He turned to Bilbo and gently placed his hand over his lover’s smaller ones, curled as they were in Bilbo’s lap. “Are you okay?”  
  
“To be honest, I’ve been better,” Bilbo said tightly, looking a little too pale for Thorin’s comfort. “But it’s okay. We can continue.”  
  
“It’s not going to get better,” Nori warned. “More the other way around.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Bilbo repeated. “Continue, please.”   
  
Nori nodded, his finger hovering just over his phone. “Right. Okay, so this was just a few hours ago.”  
  
 _“What have you said to Thorin Oakenshield?”_ Saruman demanded, and either he never was one for pleasantries in his conversations with Azog, or perhaps Nori had just left that part out.

_“Why do you care?”_

_“I_ always _care if two of my best doctors aren’t getting along.”_

Azog snorted. _“I’ve not done anything to him. If he claims-”  
  
“Then why did he call me about you.”  
_  
“Wait, wait,” Bilbo said. “Pause, halt. Thorin, you _called_ Saruman?”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin said defensively, pulling back his hand from Bilbo’s to fold his arms across his chest.  
  
Bilbo groaned. “How is that supposed to make anything better.”  
  
“Well,” Nori drawled. “I guess we wouldn’t be hearing this conversation that we’re not actually listening to right now otherwise. Perhaps you can discuss this later?” He touched his fingers to the phone once more.

_“Baggins was spying on me earlier. I had a… talk, with him.”  
  
“If I didn't make myself clear before, the incident with our young friend will not be repeated. It’s damaging to the hospital.”  
  
_ “That piece of filth,” Thorin snarled, not sure which one of the two men he meant. Saruman had not only implied that he knew Azog could kill Bilbo, but also that the only reason that he _shouldn’t_ was because it would be bad for the _hospital_.  
  
 _“Doctor Baggins is also a valuable addition to Erebor. I would have you two getting along with each other.”_  
  
 _“Oh, I think we’re getting along just fine. I think he understood the point I was trying to make about spying.”_  
  
Bilbo snorted and shook his head. “Apparently not.”  
  
“He can’t ever know about you two breaking into his office and taking his mobile,” Thorin said seriously.   
  
“Bilbo and I are much too good at burgling for that,” Nori promised.   
  
“Speak for yourself,” Bilbo murmured. “It’s not going on my resume anytime soon.”  
  
“Don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Nori said with a wink. “But if we can go back to the call, things are just about to get interesting. I’ll  go back a bit, since you two can’t be quiet.”

_“-about spying.”  
_  
 _“You should not keep trying my patience,”_ Saruman warned. _“I know that you are not following the rules of our agreement, and I have overlooked that as it’s not negatively impacted the hospital. Yet. But the incident the other month, also involving Doctor Baggins I might add, it is not to be repeated.”  
_  
 _“Yeah, you said so already.”_ Azog sounded bored. _“And there’ve not been any more ‘incidents’ like that one have there? So just let me do what I’m supposed to do.”_

_“What you’re supposed to do is to benefit this hospital. If you’re incapable of doing that, then I will have no more use for you.”_

_“Threats?”_  
  
 _“Of course not, but I assume you understand what I expect of you. And that does not include receiving more complaints about you.”  
  
“Just because Oakenshield is screwing that little-“  
  
“Don’t be crude. You are a doctor at Erebor Hospital, act like one. This is-”  
  
_ Thorin snorted. “That’d be a first.”  
  
“Shhh,” Nori admonished.   
  
_“-or what?”_ Azog demanded. _“You can’t fire me.”  
  
“You know perfectly well what I can and cannot do. Don’t test me.”  
  
_ There was no click, or beep, but some of the background noise faded away and Thorin realised that Saruman had hung up.  
  
 _“Fucking righteous piece of-“_ Azog murmured, then he went silent as well.  
  
“Gather round now, children,” Nori prompted as he stuffed his phone back into his pocket. “And tell me, what can we learn from these two conversations?”  
  
“They should both be in jail,” Thorin growled.   
  
“I said _learn_ , not things we already knew.”  
  
“Nothing they said can help get them to jail,” Bilbo said morosely. “That’s what  you meant about this not being a solution, right? They kept talking _around_ everything. Especially Saruman. He almost sounded honestly concerned that a couple of his doctors aren’t getting along.”

“Yeah, but let’s start with the fact that someone is apparently stalking Azog,” Nori suggested. “It’s not me, and I’m guessing you’ve not had anything to do with it either?”  
  
“It’s probably Saruman,” Thorin said darkly. “That man is a liar. And I can very well understand why he would want to keep tabs on Azog.”  
  
“But Saruman does not seem to know everything about what Azog has done or is doing,” Nori argued.   
  
“He could be pretending that he doesn’t know.”  
  
“Isn’t the more important point,” Bilbo interrupted. “-that if Azog is being followed by someone, and knows that he is being followed, then he might actually… behave? And while that’s good in a way, it’s not going to make it easier to find any evidence against him.” Bilbo’s brows knitted together in frustration. “Not that I want something bad to happen just to get rid of him, and I guess it’s much too late for that, but-“  
  
“I think we know what you mean, Bilbo,” Nori said. “I was hoping that we could just catch him selling drugs to random people, but if he thinks he’s being followed -regardless of who is doing the following - and since Saruman basically told him to cut that shit out or else-“  
  
“Wait, when did he say that?” Thorin questioned. “Random people? But the messages from the board members? I thought-”  
  
“Exactly.” Nori nodded. “That’s what Saruman wants him to do, and since he’s saying that Azog is not following the rules of their agreement, that means that he’s also doing something else.”  
  
“Or that he’s _not_ doing something,” Bilbo suggested and Nori nodded again.  
  
“Sure, but I do believe that he’s selling drugs to several board members. So unless there’s something else he’s supposed to be doing that he’s not doing, then he’s doing something that he’s not supposed to.” He snorted. “That’s an awkward sentence if I ever heard one. But if he _wasn’t_ doing something, then why did Saruman tell him to stop. Can you stop doing nothing? Also, the incident they mentioned, involving you, Bilbo. Care to take a stab at what that could be?” Nori winced. “Sorry, ‘take a stab’ is a poor choice of words considering the subject and company I guess.”  
  
“As everyone knows, surgeons have very sensitive egos,” Thorin said wryly. “But it was somewhat lacking in taste, I agree.”  
  
“I’ve mostly kept away from Azog,” Bilbo said, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “I’m not sure- a month ago?”  
  
“Back up a little more, let’s say three, and instead trying to bring Azog into it, just focus on what actually was going on.”  
  
The first thing that came to mind for Thorin was that three months ago he and Bilbo had started, well, dating. ‘It seemed like such a small word for it. And three months was a very short time when he had to connect it with what he felt for Bilbo.   
  
“Oh, that poor man who stopped me outside the pharmacy?”   
  
“Poor man? Really?” Nori asked.   
  
“Well, it wasn’t really his fault, now was it? Oh,” Bilbo paused. “Are you telling me that it was Azog that he was waiting for?”  
  
“Well, I’m not telling you that it wasn’t.”  
  
“What are you talking about?” Thorin asked. “Pharmacy?”   
  
“The addict in the parking lot,” Nori said with a wry grin. “Which sounds like it should be a modern Sherlock Holmes mystery. I hear that new BBC show is rather good. Maybe I can sell it to them.”  
  
“ _Poor man_?” Thorin echoed as the shoe finally dropped. “Bilbo, he could have _killed_ you.”  
  
“I believe we have already discussed this,” Bilbo said and raised his chin. “And _your_ sense of self-preservation would shame a lemming, so you can just keep quiet.”  
  
“That’s actually a myth,” Nori said, holding up his hands when both Thorin and Bilbo turned to glare at him. “Don’t shoot the messenger. Can we perhaps get back on track again? I think Azog is getting drugs from Saruman to basically give to the board members so they can be blackmailed, but he’s also using them himself, _and_ he’s selling to the general public." Nori waved one hand dismissively.   
  
"I guess we I already knew this, I mean, there were a lot of cryptic text messages in his phone after all, it would be strange if _all_ of them were board members, but now we know that Saruman definitely does not approve. And it’s possible that Azog’s regular spot for handing over drugs is by the pharmacy parking lot. Lots of people coming and going after all, carrying all sorts of bags and bottles. And it has a certain twisted sense of humour to it.”  
  
“So?” Thorin asked. “You just said that there’s a smaller chance that Azog will continue now that he knows someone is watching him, and that Saruman has told him not to do it. And if he was the dealer to that pathetic excuse for a -”  
  
“Thorin,” Bilbo protested. “That’s hardly fair. Just because someone has gotten themselves involved with-“

“He could have _killed_ you,” Thorin said fiercely. “But since there is now a connection between that particular place and an addict waiting for a fix, don’t you think he’ll have changed spots? If he’s doing it at all.”

“So we’re probably not going to catch him in the act,” Nori agreed. “Not selling at least. I  considered getting that Sméagol fellow to witness, but apparently he’s now getting psychiatric treatment, on top of being in rehab, so yeah, not the most reliable source of information. He’d be worthless as a character witness.”

“We can’t really go to the police until there’s any evidence,” Bilbo said with a sigh. “But what if we go to the papers? It’s not like they’re going to care that there’s no solid proof. And maybe they’ll find something we’ve overlooked.”  
  
Thorin bit the inside of his cheek. He hated the idea of what such a thing would do to Erebor’s reputation, but that had to be secondary.

“Perhaps that is a possibility,” he said carefully, and they both turned to look at Nori. “Could you arrange this?”  
  
“Sad to disappoint you, gents, but I don’t actually know any reporters.” Nori tapped his fingers against his chin. “I guess I could leave an anonymous tip, but if the reporter would call Azog or Saruman to get their side of the story that would derail the entire thing fairly quickly. They’re hardly giving anything away _now_ , I doubt they’ll get more sloppy with a herd of journalists chasing them.”  
  
“Great,” Thorin said flatly. “Good to know.”  
  
“I think we need to tell Gandalf,” Nori said. “He’s got a friend who is fairly high up with the local police. Maybe he can get one of the board members pulled in for a drug test, and we could start from that end. It’d not be proof, but perhaps they’d admit to something. We’re not going to get this into a neat package whatever we do as no one is going to spontaneously admit to everything.”  
  
“But what if Gandalf wants to do something else?” Bilbo rested his elbow on the table and propped his head up on his hand. “There’s a reason why we haven’t told him already. If he decides to confront Saruman, or the board, or Azog… That’s not going to end particularly well.”

“What do Saruman get out of this anyway?” Nori asked. “Money? Then we might-“  
  
Thorin shook his head. “You know as well as I do that while the board handles a lot of the money going into the hospital Saruman doesn’t really need it. And hell, it’d be easier for HR to steal money than it would be for him. Donations, and grants, gifts and so on are monitored very closely. It was a nightmare trying to get the board to sign off on a new MRI scanner even though we had a specific donation that was directly aimed towards one. And again, as far as I know he doesn’t need the money anyway.”  
  
“True enough,” Nori said, pulling at his braid in frustration.  
  
For a long few moments the three men sat at the table united in a morose silence. Then Bilbo yawned.   
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
“No, this has been a long day,” Nori agreed. “A really fucking long day. I just wanted to show you this and I’m not about to play it for you in the middle of the hospital, Azog being gone or not, that’d just be asking for trouble. We might as well sleep on what we’re going to do. You’re both working tomorrow?”  
  
“Yes,” Bilbo confirmed. “But I think you already knew that.”  
  
“Just making polite conversation.”  
  
Lalaith had passed away that same morning, but it seemed to have happened a long time ago. Or perhaps not, because the stab of grief that struck at Thorin’s heart when he thought of her was not yet dulled by the passage of time. Eventually the loss of even someone so young and bright would fade, but by that time Thorin would have made sure that Azog paid for his crimes. And Saruman too.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So almost half of this smut, erm, very rambly smut I fear, but hey, still smut.

When the Bilbo’s office door opened he didn’t bother raising his gaze from his paperwork.  
  
“Thorin, I promise I’m still fine.” Azog wasn’t even on the hospital grounds and this was Bilbo's second day back at the hospital after what had happened (which he wasn't about to think about), so of course he was fine. Not that it stopped Thorin from-  
  
“Not Thorin, my dear boy,” Radagast said and Bilbo looked up and smiled at the scruffy looking surgeon.  
  
“Radagast, please come in. And I’m sorry about that, it’s just that Thorin seems to have started a shuttle service between our offices.”  
  
“Yes, I have heard him stampeding through the hallways more often than usual,” Radagast mused. “Not especially light on his feet that one. Really though, we’re all handling Lalaith’s passing in our own ways. It’s strange how we can deal with the possability of human mortality almost every day and still be surprised when it happens to one of our own.”  
  
Bilbo felt the smile on his face stiffen, as much from grief as from feeling as he’d just lied to his friend. Radagast wasn’t entirely wrong in his assumption that any overzealous concern from Thorin’s side was connected to Lalaith’s death, but he naturally didn’t have the entire picture as he didn’t know about Azog’s part in it. However Bilbo couldn’t exactly _tell_ him that he was wrong.

“In a way I do sympathise with the people who blindly believe those quacks that promises the cure for everything between the common cold and cancer.” Radagast stopped,  frowned, and scratched awkwardly at his hair. “Well, car accidents would not be included I assume, but I’m sure you take my point. Death is frightening to most of us, and any way to avoid that would likely seem like a worthwhile pursuit.”  
  
Bilbo sighed and put his pen down. “My cousin, Esme-“  
  
“Oh, the dazzling general practitioner,” Radagast said with a fond smile. “I do hope she’ll visit again soon, Sebastian really took a liking to her.”

What Sebastian had done was to leave a little pile of hedgehog poop on the bag Esmeralda had dropped by the door. According to Radagast that was a sign of great trust as hedgehogs usually were more… discrete, with their droppings to avoid predators.

“Yes, quite,” Bilbo agreed with a wry smile. It wasn’t _impossible_ , Esme hadn’t really minded the poop; as most parents with a young child she’d gotten used to poop showing up in unexpected places, but the stick insect that she found wandering around on her shoulder was apparently where she drew the line.  
  
(Radagast introducing the stick insect as ‘Bob’ hadn’t helped.)  
  
“At any rate, back when we both were finishing up our residencies she told me that surgeons are probably the worst at accepting death, or even just sickness, since we tend to think we are not only personally responsible for fixing everything, but that we also _can_ fix anything.” Bilbo shrugged one shoulder. “Perhaps it’s true, there is an hands-on immediacy in what we do that would lend itself to that belief. But I’d still say that belief something shared by most everyone working here. Once you’ve helped save someone’s life, of course it seems unfair that you can’t save everyone.”  
  
Getting Azog away from Erebor would not save everyone, but it would save the patients that he would otherwise have harmed. In a way it was exactly like a surgery. Azog was a malignant growth on the hospital, and he needed to be removed. But unless they could get rid of Saruman as well, Azog, or someone like him, could keep coming back.

“We do get accused of playing god more often than the folks down in the maternity department,” Radagast mused. “Even though their job description is mainly that of bringing new humans into this world. A bit unfair, isn’t it?”

Bilbo hummed noncommittally. “So did you want anything in particular?” he asked after a few moments of Radagast just standing around with a rather undignified pout on his lips.

“Oh, yes, right.” Radagast perked up again. “I was just going to ask, do you think noodles are bad for hedgehogs? I’ve tried googling it, but so far the internet has not been very helpful.”  
  
“Is this a hypothetical question, or have Sebastian eaten noodles?” Bilbo asked carefully, and Radagast squirmed.  
  
“He seemed to enjoy them?”  
  
Funny how situations like this never happened while he’d been working at the Shire. No psychopathic, threatening maniacs either, unless you counted Lobelia; and compared to Azog she was as pleasant as a summer’s breeze. Of course, there had been no Thorin at the Shire. And no sweet but strange Radagast and his hedgehog (and apparently now also joined by Bob the stick insect). No Bofur. No Nori. Nothing much at all to make things interesting really.  
  
Bilbo sighed. “Then perhaps you can instead search for a number to a vet? I hear they know a fair bit about animals that google doesn’t.”  
  
“Oh,” Radagast breathed. “Ah, yes, that’s a good idea.”  
  
Some things you just had to get used to. Other things… just had to try and change for the better. Bilbo licked his lips. Azog would be out of the hospital for six more days. They could figure something out in that time. They had to.  
  
-

Thinking that it was time for a coffee break Bilbo headed for Thorin’s office, half-way there he stumbled across none other than Thorin. He seemed to be having a very intent conversation with a man that struck Bilbo as familiar somehow, but who he couldn’t really place.  
  
The blond slowed his steps, wanting to give the two a chance to finish their talk, but Thorin still heard him and looked up and shot him a quick smile. The other man, who really did look familiar… looked up as well, then back at Thorin. He said something, likely a farewell because he then started walking away down the hallway.

"Everything alright?” Bilbo asked quietly as the strangely familiar stranger disappeared around the corner. “Who was that?"

"Túrin," Thorin said with a sigh. "Lalaith's brother."

"Oh," Bilbo glanced down the now empty hallway. He’d had dark hair and not blond, but now Bilbo could definitely why he’d seen so familiar. 

"Indeed. I found him wandering the halls while I was-" 

“Coming to check on me for the tenth time?” Bilbo asked, raising an eyebrow. When Thorin’s shoulders rose defensively, the blond shook his head and took Thorin’s hand. “I’m not upset, but it’s not necessary. You might be disturbing Radagast though, apparently you’re not being particularly quiet when walking down our corridor. Stamping your feet to scare away snakes?”

“Funny,” Thorin said drily, lifting Bilbo’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Want to go and get some coffee?”

“I was coming to ask you that same thing,” Bilbo said. They began to head for the cafeteria, but before they turned the corner Bilbo glanced back. His office was to be found if you took the left branch of the corridor, and if you took the right you’d eventually end up outside Azog’s.  

"We've not discussed this," Bilbo said softly. "But doesn't he deserve to know what really happened to his sister? Or would that just make everything worse?"

“At the moment I can't imagine that it would do any good." Thorin gently squeezed Bilbo’s hand. “He came here because he misses her, grieves for her. I’m not sure if it’s right of us not to tell him, but it’s most likely the kindest thing we can do at the moment.”

“I guess,” Bilbo said. “I just, it feels like we’re lying to him, to everyone. But to tell him, even if we had proof… It has got to be horrible to know that someone you loved has been murdered. But he _will_ find out if we can find a way to actually connect Azog to it.”  
  
“I don’t think we should talk more about it while we’re here,” Thorin said quietly. “We’re alone now, but why take the risk that someone comes along and overhears.”  
  
Bilbo sighed. “I just hate feeling like we’re the ones doing something wrong.”  
  
“You’d make an awful secret agent,” Thorin teased in a fairly obvious attempt to change the topic, but Bilbo wasn't about to point it out. “Or perhaps a very good one as I can’t imagine that anyone would suspect you. A respectable doctor, impeccable taste in clothes, kind to children and hedgehogs…”  
  
The corner of Bilbo’s mouth quirked upwards. “I’d be a wreck, I’d probably turn myself in at the closest headquarters of whatever it is that I’m trying to spy on and ask them to _please_ lock me up before I had a heart attack.”  
  
“Ah, but that could be a part of your cunning plan. While they are falling over themselves to lock you up you’d have an excellent opportunity to sneak away and do whatever spying that needed to be done, and then you could escape through an air vent.”  
  
“I have a feeling that you’ve devoted entirely too much thought to this,” Bilbo mused. “And me in an air vent? Really?”  
  
“You are small and surprisingly limber,” Thorin pointed out, voice dropping to a husky murmur.  
  
“Thorin, not at work,” Bilbo warned. “It’s hardly professional.”  
  
“We’re on a break,” Thorin said loftily. “And we never did finish that discussion we had about your office.”  
  
“My office?”  
  
“Yes, I was thinking that your desk is set at a very convenient height. For… all sorts of things.”

Bilbo snorted. “Oh, _that_ discussion. Thorin, my desk can be lowered and raised with the press of a button. That pretty much makes its height convenient for _anything_ involving a desk. Not that anything _will_ happen in relation to this one.”

“When we talked about this before you only said that you weren’t _sure_ that it was a good idea.”  
  
“You were- “ A couple of nurses came out of a supply closet and Bilbo lowered his voice into a hiss. “-nibbling on my neck. It’s not like I was thinking clearly.”  
  
When Thorin got a speculative look in his eyes Bilbo held up a finger and waved it in front of his face. “No, no, no. No nibbling. We are at work. Where we _work_.”  
  
They passed Boromir’s office and Thorin called out to him, offering to get him coffee. The only response was a vaguely agreeable mutter.

“While I agree that we’re at work, we _are_ on a break,” Thorin tried again.

“I’m starting to suspect that it’s really my desk that’s the primary focus of this. Granted, it’s a nice desk. But still, what’s gotten into you?”  
  
“Nothing, _yet_.”  
  
“That was so bad,” Bilbo said mournfully. “I’m not sure I can _ever_ make love to you again. Terribly sorry.”  
  
“ _Please_?” Thorin murmured turning his head to look directly at Bilbo and his beseeching expression turning into that of catlike smugness when Bilbo shuddered minutely and squeezed his hand. “Haven’t you ever had any fantasy you’ve wanted to… well, not have remain a fantasy?”  
  
“Not at work,” Bilbo protested. “Imagine if anyone saw. It’s quite possible I’d literally die from embarrassment. And it is terribly unprofessional.”  
  
Thorin sighed. “If you ever change your mind, feel free to tell me.”  
  
“So I shouldn’t simply arrange myself over the closest desk or bend you over one?” Bilbo asked innocently, keeping his eyes on Thorin’s face to see the exact moment the mental image settled and his eyes took on that slightly glazed quality. Thorin really was unfairly attractive, but that still didn’t mean that anyone would end up bent over a desk. At least not at work.  
  
“Now that’s not a fair,” Thorin complained weakly. “Now I’m going to think of that each time I open the door to either of our offices.”  
  
“You’re welcome,” Bilbo said with a smug smile. “Also, you started this. Don’t try and pretend otherwise.”  
  
“You should buy me coffee.”  
  
“Why should I buy you coffee? And if you say that you’ll put out you’re not going to like the results,” Bilbo warned.  
  
 Thorin chuckled. He stopped, making Bilbo stop as well as they were still holding hands. “May I please get a kiss at least?” he asked, lightly tugging Bilbo towards him by the grip on his hand.  
  
“Is this a trick?” Bilbo asked cautiously. “Will there be nibbling?”  
  
“I feel like we’re back to you being a spy and I’ve somehow turned into the femme fatale trying to seduce you,” Thorin mused. “Only I’d look horrible in a dress.”  
  
“I’m not so sure about that,” Bilbo teased. “You’ve got very nice, long legs.”  
  
“And very hairy legs,” Thorin said drily.  
  
“It’s a natural look?”  
  
“I’m noticing how I’m not getting a kiss. Nor have I any coffee. This is a terrible break.”  
  
Bilbo snorted and stretched and pressed a quick kiss to Thorin’s lips. “Happy?”  
  
“Yes, thank you,” Thorin murmured, bending down to steal another kiss. “I just, regardless of the reason as to _why_ , I _have_ been thinking about you all day, in your office, and-”  
  
“Not just _thinking_ ,” Bilbo pointed out. “Considering how many times you’ve come- I did not mean it like that,” he protested when Thorin began to laugh. “I was merely going to say: ‘-come stomping into my office’. You’ve a very dirty mind.”  
  
“Then what do you have since you apparently thought the same thing?” Thorin cupped Bilbo’s cheek and tilted his head up. “I’ve worried a lot more than I’ve masturbated?”  
  
“Please tell me that is a joke.” The idea of Thorin sitting behind his desk, trousers at his knees, arm moving slowly and rhythmically; his hand hidden from view by the desk…  
“And stop looking smug,” Bilbo said faintly, which of course only caused Thorin's smirk to widen. “I’m _not_ having sex while at work.”  
  
“Good to know, doc,” Dwalin drawled from behind them.  
  
“Right,” Bilbo told the ceiling. “Excuse me while I die of embarrassment. Or figure out how to sink through the floor. Whatever’s quicker.”  
  
“No means no,” Dwalin told Thorin seriously. He turned to Bilbo. “Want me to get a doll and you can point at the places he touched you?”  
  
“If you don’t go away and let me die in peace, I’m, I’ll- I’ll tell Nori you’re in love with his brother,” Bilbo said, still looking up at the ceiling.

A very heavy silence lowered itself over the hallway and Bilbo took a moment to be very proud of his threat. He didn’t at all think that Dwalin was in love with Dori, so there’d be no longstanding consequences, but Nori definitely seemed like the protective sort, and you didn’t-

“He's sleeping with _Nori_ ,” Thorin said drily.

There was the sound of a palm against the back of someone’s head, and Bilbo didn’t need to look to know whose head and whose palm. Especially when: “Ow,” Thorin complained.

“Arsehole.”  
  
“Well now you’ve just confirmed that you are,” Thorin said. "Both sleeping with Nori and the arsehole."

Oh.

_Oh._

“But you thought Nori was sleeping with Dís?” Bilbo lowered his gaze from the ceiling (he’d been getting a crick in the neck anyway) and looked at Thorin.

“I did?” Thorin looked very confused.  
  
Dwalin’s face on the other hand lost all traces of emotion and he crossed his arms over his chest.

“If you didn’t, why did you scowl so much when he talked to her about that... cell phone thing, we needed help with. And he sounded flirty.”

“He’s flirty all the time, with everyone. Even with Gandalf. And I didn’t scowl. But if I would have, it would be because he drives me _crazy_.”

“Hear hear,” Dwalin muttered.  
  
“Well,” Bilbo tilted his head to the side and looked contemplatively at Dwalin. “I’m glad it’s you then, he seems to really like you.” Nori hadn’t ever talked about the person he was seeing, but he’d always seemed really happy to be seeing them. Him. Dwalin. This could take some time to get used to.

“Really?” Dwalin said hopefully.

“And you called me a teenaged girl,” Thorin murmured.  
  
“Teenaged girls are not fuck buddies.” Dwalin made a face. “And that's a thought I'll never get out of my head. Great.”

“But didn’t you go to some… thing just the other week?” Nori had seemed very excited about getting tickets to whatever it had been. It had had something to do with sports, which was probably why Bilbo’s brain had not seen it fit to retain the information.  
  
“Yeah, but he didn’t have anyone else to go with.”  
  
“Nori didn’t have _anyone_ else to go with,” Bilbo repeated. “Doesn’t that seem a _little_ unlikely? He knows everyone.”  
  
“Hey!” Bofur called as he walked out of his office. “Are we having a hallway party?”  
  
“I think we’re having an intervention,” Thorin said, leaning against the wall.  
   
“I was just doing my job,” Dwalin complained. ”Patrolling the hallways, saving innocents.”

“Eavesdropping on private conversations…” Thorin said drily.

“You’re not supposed to have private conversations in the middle of a corridor. Which is why I’ll be leaving now.” He looked at Bilbo. “ _Don’t_ tell him anything.”  
  
“Anyone want coffee?” Bofur asked after Dwalin had begun to stomp away.  
  
“Please,”  Thorin and Bilbo chorused.  
  
-  
  
“So tell me about this desk thing,” Bilbo prompted as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “Is it the desk? Because if you’ve got a doctor kink that’s rather strange. Or convenient I suppose.”  
  
“I thought you weren’t interested in my ‘desk thing’,” Thorin called from the bathroom. His voice was slightly muffled as he was brushing his teeth.  
  
“I’m not interested in doing anything in regards to it while we’re at work, but in the privacy of my own home, well, in the privacy of your home, I’d not mind hearing about it. Thorin?” Bilbo added when there wasn’t any reply.  
  
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that,” Thorin said as he walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, dressed only in his trousers. They were hanging low on his hips as the belt was already removed. His hair had been brushed and hung freely down to his shoulders in dark, gleaming waves, just asking for someone to touch.  
  
“The desk thing?” Bilbo asked distractedly, trying to drag his eyes up from Thorin’s chest.  
  
“No. I was wondering, would you consider moving in with me? Just for the time being if that’s what you’re comfortable with.” Thorin reached out and pushed some of Bilbo’s curls behind one of his ears. “I love having you here with me.”

“Does this have anything to do with you stopping by my office so often?” Bilbo said carefully.

Thorin sighed and brushed his thumb over Bilbo’s cheek. “I’d worry less about you I fell asleep next to you every night, yes. But even if Azog and Saruman stopped being an issue this very moment, I’d still want you here. If you want to.”  
  
“I’ve not lived with anyone in a long time,” Bilbo warned.  
  
“Neither have I,” Thorin said. He made a face. “I suppose that’s not exactly reassuring.”  
  
“We already see each other during the days.” Bilbo bit down on his bottom lip. “You sure you’ll not get tired of me?” Smaug was obviously not a good example, but no one Bilbo had dated had really been that interested in moving in together. Especially not this quick.  
  
“I can’t imagine that ever happening,” Thorin said quietly. “Not only do you keep surprising me, but I don’t see how I could ever get tired of being allowed to be around you.”  
  
“Even if I won’t have sex with you at work?” Bilbo teased, a small smile quirking his lips.  
  
“I suppose that my bed would be a decent enough substitute,” Thorin said, leaning down to brush his lips over Bilbo’s. “The important factor is after all you. And you should of course keep your own apartment as long as you want to, but I’d really like it if you moved in with me. Or if you prefer, we could look for a new apartment together?”  
  
“I like this one,” Bilbo said quietly. “If you’re sure, I’d not mind moving in with you. But if you change your mind-“  
  
“I won’t.”  
  
“If you do, just tell me?”  
  
Thorin frowned. “I’ll not change my mind. I love you.”  
  
“Thorin, no one knows what will happen in the future. People are allowed to change their minds. People do break up.”  
  
With that stubborn look on his face, Thorin looked a lot like his two nephews. The thought caused Bilbo to smile. Thorin had probably been a terrifyingly cute child.  
  
“You’re talking about breaking up, and you’re smiling,” Thorin said and shook his head. “Should I be worried?” Adorably enough, Thorin did look a little worried.  
  
“No,” Bilbo said simply, reaching up to tangle his hands into Thorin’s hair. “You shouldn’t. But you should tell me about your fascination with desks. If anything will be a deal breaker I suspect that will be it. An office furniture fetishist might be hard to live with.”  
  
“Hard?” Thorin murmured, slipping his hand inside Bilbo’s half-open shirt to brush over a nipple.  
  
“Well, if I catch you humping a desk I might watch that for a while,” Bilbo confessed, pressing himself closer to Thorin. “But it’d be rather disturbing at the same time.”  
  
“I wasn’t planning on humping your desk. It’s not about the desk.”  
  
“You sure? You seem awfully fond of it.”  
  
“I’m awfully fond of you.”  
  
“I’m starting to suspect that there’s a deep dark reason why you won’t tell me about your plans for my desk,” Bilbo teased.  
  
“Oh, you want me to tell you? Why didn’t you just say so?” Thorin grinned at the unimpressed look Bilbo gave him and it really was entirely, definitely, unfairly, attractive. He would simply have to sacrifice himself and suffer through it. Be remembered as a martyr.  
  
“I’d want you to fuck me over your desk, or for me to fuck you.”  
  
“I love the _detail_ in that description,” Bilbo said as he nodded earnestly. “Very nuanced. You’ve obviously devoted a great deal of time to this fantasy.”  
  
“Such a sharp tongue,” Thorin murmured fondly, his big fingers deftly undoing the rest of the buttons on Bilbo’s shirt, not succeeding in removing it as Bilbo’s hands were still tangled into Thorin’s hair. “Do I dare ask for a kiss again?”  
  
“I don’t know, do you?” Bilbo licked his lips and rose up on his toes, stopping when less than an inch of air remained between his mouth and Thorin’s. “I’ve got teeth as well. I might bite?”  
  
“I thought I was the one in charge of the nibbling?” Thorin’s breath smelled of mint, and Bilbo licked his lips again.  
  
“Can we stop talking and go to bed now?”  
  
“I don’t know, can we?” Thorin raised an eyebrow. “Oh how the tables have turned. It’s not as much fun to be teased, is it now?”  
  
“Tables, you mean desks?” With that Bilbo pulled Thorin down into a kiss, gently biting down on his bottom lip. Thorin tasted like mint as well, which wasn’t really that surprising.  
  
Bilbo gasped in surprise when Thorin picked him up. “Hey,” he protested, pulling back from the kiss.  
  
“You were the one saying that we should go to bed.”  
  
“True, but I don’t seem to be doing a lot of walking. I-“ Bilbo gasped again as Thorin threw him down onto the bed, and the blond quickly worked his arms free of his shirt before Thorin had any bright ideas that would involve him not being allowed to touch. That could also be very nice, but not right now.  
  
“I like that sound you made just now,” Thorin murmured as he joined Bilbo on the bed, crawling up to straddle him with catlike grace. “You sound endearingly scandalised. Like I’m despoiling you.”  
  
“Who even says ‘despoiling’ anymore,” Bilbo said distractedly, reaching up to stroke his hands over Thorin’s stomach and sides, sliding down to brush over the clothed bulge in the front of Thorin’s trousers. “And it’s too late for any despoiling anyway. Unless-” Bilbo grinned and pulled his hands back, stuffing them beneath his head. “We can pretend?”  
  
“Pretend?”  
  
Bilbo nodded as best as he could while lying down. “Pretend.” He lowered his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip and squirmed slightly; which had the added benefit of making him rub up against Thorin. “I’ve never done this before,” he said quietly, peering up at Thorin and just as quickly looking down again. “But you’ll make it good, right?”  
  
Thorin let out a strained noise, and Bilbo bit down on his lip again, this time to stop from smiling. “I liked it when you touched my chest before.” He tentatively moved a hand to brush over one of his nipples. “Like this, but it felt better when you did it.”  
  
“Do you-“ Thorin cleared his throat, and pressed his hand to Bilbo’s chest, rubbing his palm against the left nipple. “Like this?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Bilbo said stroking his hand down Thorin’s arm. “More?”  
  
“I feel like I’m taking advantage of you,” Thorin muttered, even as he leaned down to flick his tongue over Bilbo’s other nipple.  
  
“Please do,” Bilbo murmured, sinking his hand into the hair at the back of Thorin’s neck to pull him in. “I’ve not been drinking and I can show you my ID to prove I’m over 18.”  
  
Thorin snorted, and Bilbo grinned up at the ceiling. “I- oh-“  
  
Thorin sank his teeth into Bilbo’s nipple, only deep enough for it to be felt and Bilbo’s hips bucked upwards without conscious thought, seeking friction. The parts of Thorin’s hair that weren’t clenched in Bilbo’s hands trailed over the blond’s chest as Thorin moved his head backwards enough so he could blow on that same nipple, which immediately pebbled.  
  
“I suppose you wouldn’t be interested in having your… second time, involve a desk?” Thorin inquired as he rubbed his bearded chin against Bilbo’s throat.  
  
“You can't ask _now_ ,” Bilbo protested. “I’m definitely not thinking clearly.”  
  
Thorin smiled, and while Bilbo couldn't see it he could feel his lover’s lips stretch wide against his skin.  
  
“Why are we still wearing clothes?” Bilbo complained when he dragged his hands down Thorin’s back only to encounter Thorin’s trousers. “Oh, yes, someone threw me on the bed before I'd finished getting undressed.”  
  
“Terribly sorry,” Thorin murmured. “I hope you’ll not allow my bad behaviour to put you off the entire thing. Let me make it up to you.”  
  
Oh right. He was supposed to be pretending to be inexperienced. Right. Unfortunately Bilbo couldn’t for the life of him figure out something to say which wasn’t a variation on ‘get naked, now!’ and he wasn’t sure how fitting that was. Then Thorin pulled away.  
  
“No,” Bilbo protested, shivering slightly as Thorin moved down the bed, taking his lovely warmth and mostly naked body with him. “Come back. This is not making it up- oh hullo.”  
  
Thorin had unbuttoned and unzipped Bilbo’s trousers almost before Bilbo noticing and the smaller man lifted his hips to help Thorin pull them off. He’d expected Thorin to remove his pants at the same time, so when Thorin hooked his fingers in them Bilbo raised his hips once again, but what hadn't expected was for Thorin to lower his head and mouth at his mostly hard cock through the thin fabric of Bilbo’s underwear.  
  
Bilbo’s legs automatically spread to make more room, and Thorin hummed approvingly.

“Shouldn’t those come off?” Bilbo said breathily as Thorin’s tongue lapped at the head of his cock through the cotton. That had no right to look hot, but it still sent Bilbo’s pulse racing. “And your trousers?” There was some definite tenting in Thorin’s trousers, which couldn’t really be comfortable. Yes, that was definitly the main reason as to why he should get naked. Bilbo was just thinking of his comfort and not of strong thighs and that lovely cock.

“Eventually," Thorin said casually. "I’d not want you to feel exposed, or pressured into something you weren’t ready for.”  
  
Thorin’s fingers snaked through the fly in the boxers, lightly stroking against the skin he found.  
  
There had to be a way to pretend to be a virgin that would make things speed up a bit or Bilbo was going to stage a coup. Obviously he’d not really considered all factors before starting this.  
  
He threw his arm over his eyes as Thorin did something with his tongue that probably shouldn’t be legal. Everything he could think of to say felt like it came from really bad porn.

“But I want to touch you too,” he finally managed. “I, um, practice? Or I’ll never get better. I definitely need practice. _Oh_ …”  
  
What Thorin was doing to his boxers looked _obscene_. The boxers were just ordinary white cotton, which meant that the bits of fabric that had been wetted with Thorin’s saliva had turned mostly see-through. The head of Bilbo’s cock was clearly visible, and probably also responsible for some of the wetness as well.

“I’m fairly sure you’re not supposed to come in your pants while in bed with someone,” Bilbo said faintly. “So if we can avoid that, brilliant.”

“If you come, you’ll be more relaxed,” Thorin rumbled, fingers teasing through the trail of hair that led from Bilbo’s navel and down into his boxers. “I’m not going to hurt you.”  
  
“Fingers,” Bilbo blurted, because obviously that would be a better way of going about that. “And lube. Both, now, please?”

Thorin looked up and smirked. “You sure? We shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“You are a horrible man,” Bilbo moaned. “Please, please, please. Or I will lose my mind and start saying all the terrible clichés that have been gathering in my head. Or I’ll just rip your trousers off myself. Or both.”

Thorin chuckled, and Bilbo squirmed as the hot puffs of air seemed to be aimed directly at his aching cock.  
  
“What kind of things are you thinking about?”  
  
“Things that makes me happy I’m a doctor and not in the porn industry,” Bilbo huffed. “You take off your kit and I’ll tell you.”  
  
Thorin chuckled again, but after rubbing his cheek against Bilbo’s cock like the overgrown, smug cat that he sometimes looked like, he climbed off the bed and finally started taking his trousers off.  
  
Bilbo quickly seized the opportunity and squirmed out of his pants, hesitating just before dropping them off the side of the bed. He peered out, making sure not to drop them on the rug.

When he turned back to Thorin, the other man was naked, and watching him with a fond expression on his face. “Dry cleaners should not have to deal with bodily fluids,” Bilbo said defensively. His mind had cleared somewhat as Thorin's mouth no longer was so close to his cock, and really, it was only common decency.  
  
“I’m sure they agree,” Thorin nodded. “So, what were you thinking of saying that would have been suited to porn?”  
  
“Come here first,” Bilbo prompted, reaching out his hand. “I’m getting cold. And lonely. And all sorts of things that you can help with.”  
  
Thorin huffed out a laugh, but joined Bilbo on the bed, stretching out on top of him like a very warm, lightly furred, grabby handed blanket. Bilbo sighed appreciatively when Thorin nudging one of his legs to wrap around his hip and squirmed to get some friction on his still very interested erection.  
  
“Not too heavy?” Thorin asked and Bilbo shook his head and pressed a line of kisses along Thorin’s jaw.  
  
“I’d still like you to have me though.”  
  
“I’d like that too,” Thorin said quietly, then one corner of his mouth quirked. “I’m still waiting to hear about the porn.”

Bilbo snorted. “Well, had this really been my first time I could have said something about how very tight I’d be. How I’d not even touched myself before,  but how I’d really want you to. And also lots of things about how big you are, which would have completely wreaked havoc with the size of your _ego_ , I’m sure. I’m sorry, I know I suggested this, but I’m not terribly good at this game I think.”  
  
“I’m not complaining,” Thorin said, pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s nose. “You’re entirely too enticing and gorgeous no matter what you do. I think that’s the origin of my - as you put it, ‘desk thing’.” Thorin smiled and brushed his thumb over Bilbo’s bottom lip, which felt slightly swollen from the kissing and the biting he’d been putting it through. “I want you however you’ll allow me to have you.”  
  
Bilbo tightened his arms around Thorin’s neck. “ _Now_ then, I really like for you to have me now. And thank you, that was very sweetly said, and I love you, but please fuck me?”  
  
“Romance isn’t dead after all,” Thorin stated wryly as he reached out to grab the lube from the nightstand. 

-  
  
Bilbo moaned as the head of Thorin’s cock nudged into him. Thick and clever fingers had worked him open so thoroughly, that even _if_ this would have been a nerve-wracked first time it wouldn’t have hurt a bit. He rather thought Thorin had devoted so much time to it to be a bit of a bastard, but it’d felt really good, and the end result was not something he was about to complain about.  
  
Thorin was deliciously thick and just the perfect lenght, and Bilbo would have pointed this out had he the available breath to do so. As it were, the air kept wanting to escape in the shape of moans each time Thorin rocked forwards, leaving just enough in his lungs to breath to actually breathe.  
  
When Thorin’s hips finally pressed against his, Bilbo shuddered at the sweet, heavy feeling inside of him. Thorin kept most of his weight off Bilbo by supporting himself on his elbows, so it was a little awkward for him to brush a stray curl away from Bilbo’s forehead, but he managed even so.  
  
“Okay?”  
  
“Perfect,” Bilbo murmured. “Love you.”  
  
“Love you too,” Thorin said softly, pressing a kiss to Bilbo’s forehead and kissing his way down to his mouth. Now that they had gotten to this point, Bilbo felt the urgency fade somewhat, and they spent a fair while just kissing and rocking together in barely noticeable movements.  
  
But from one moment to the next the mood switched, and Bilbo arched upwards, offering his neck for Thorin’s kisses and those brain destroying nibbles, clutching at Thorin’s back to get him closer still. He managed to work one hand between them to wrap around himself, moaning pitifully when Thorin slowed and pulled back slightly.  
  
“I want to watch you,” Thorin rumbled, eyes flitting between Bilbo’s face and how his hand moved on his cock. “Please.”

“Can we-“ Bilbo licked his lips and tried to locate at least some of his brain cells. “We can switch. You on your back. And I can ride you? Then you can watch and fuck me?”

Despite being his idea - this was perhaps the night’s recurring theme - Bilbo groaned at the loss when Thorin pulled away.   
  
“Move upwards, a bit, so you’re sitting against the headboard,” Bilbo prompted.  
  
As Thorin complied, Bilbo quickly moved to straddle his lap, reaching back with one to hold Thorin’s cock steady as he tried to find the right angle, his other hand holding Thorin’s shoulder for balance which wasn’t really necessary though as Thorin’s hands on his hips held him steady. Thorin’s spread thighs were raised slightly making a very nice cradle for him, so it wasn't all that long before Bilbo sighed and began to take Thorin's cock into himself again. And since Thorin was sitting up that meant that they could kiss without Bilbo having to fold himself in half, which he took plenty advantage of.

The change in position naturally meant a change in angle as well and as he sank down Bilbo twisted his hips to try and – _there_. The angle seemed to work for Thorin as well, because he arched his back, accidentally smacking his head against the bedrail.  
  
“Best make this quick for the sake of my thighs and your head,” Bilbo said as he rose up slightly and sank back down again to brush over that same spot. “You all right?”  
  
“We need more pillows,” Thorin muttered. “But I’m fine. Don’t stop.”

“Does coming count as stopping?” Bilbo moaned as he moved his hand from Thorin’s shoulder to wrap around himself once more.  “Because if so I’m, oh, not making- Hey-” he protested when Thorin pushed his hand away.

“My hands are free now,” Thorin explained. “Let me.”  
  
“By all means,” Bilbo murmured as a large hand curled around him, Thorin’s thumb skimming over the head of his cock.  
  
Instead he tried to concentrate on making his thighs work, lifting and lowering himself, it already felt like they'd begun to tremble and that could only be somewhat blamed on the approaching orgasm. Maybe he should go with Thorin when he went jogging, or to the gym. If all else failed he could just appreciate a sweaty Thorin?  
  
Thorin rested his forehead against Bilbo’s shoulder, looking down at where their bodies connected. “Come on then,” he murmured, pressing kisses against Bilbo’s flushed skin. “What should I do.”  
  
“What you’re doing now is great, I-,” Bilbo whined as Thorin’s hips suddenly thrust upwards. “But that’s lovely too. No complaints.”

“And like this?” Thorin’s hand tightened a little. “Is that good? You wanted me to make it good.”  
  
“You always make it good,” Bilbo managed, not caring that Thorin had probably just meant to tease him what he'd said when they'd started the pretend-bit. “It’s always good. I love this. Love you. Please kiss me or any second I’m going to start talking about the porn bits again. It’s still in my head.”

Having Thorin laugh was also good, for a variety of reasons, from the way it made his chest rumble and to the way it made his hips stutter slightly as that led to another change in angle that was almost _too_ good. That, plus Thorin stroking him, and the latest addition of Thorin kissing him was enough to quickly push Bilbo over the edge, and he slumped forward against Thorin’s chest, breathing heavily.

Thorin’s hands fitted themselves to his hips.

“Are you too sensitive? Should we stop?”  
  
Bilbo shook his head. Or at least he hoped he did, because making any part of his body work properly seemed like a Herculean task. Apparently the message got through though, because Thorin’s hips started moving again, and Bilbo tried to push back as best as he could, because it was really a lovely feeling to just have Thorin inside of him withoout the urgency to come.

As Thorin came he shuddered upwards and Bilbo stroked his hair and pressed tiny kisses to his panting mouth.

When they had untangled themselves and done a rudimentary clean-up with the help of the sheet; agreeing that doing laundry another day was preferable to moving now, they curled together once more with Bilbo tucked against Thorin’s side. He was just about to go to sleep when he realised something horrible.

“I’ve not brushed my teeth yet,” Bilbo moaned.

Thorin snickered and Bilbo whacked his arm. “Well, I’m not getting up, so it’ll be you who will suffer my morning breath. Hah!”  
  
“Whatever you do, don’t think of running water,” Thorin said innocently. “Because I think you didn’t use the bathroom either.”  
  
“You are a cruel person,” Bilbo said, hiding his head against Thorin’s chest. “Now I’m definitely going to have to get up. And I’m fairly sure my legs don’t work. And that’s all your fault.”  
  
“I think I’m actually allowed to feel proud about that,” Thorin pointed out.  
  
“Stop being sensible. Carry me?”  
  
“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone recognize where I have already used the hedgehog poop joke from, you're awesome ;)


	11. Chapter 11

If it wasn’t for Azog, Thorin believed that he would be the happiest man on earth. He had Bilbo, who had just agreed to move in with him, he loved his work, he had fresh material to mock Dwalin with, and the same information could perhaps be used to get on Nori’s good side, which was a very convenient place to be.  
  
But he couldn’t overlook Azog. He was the reason why Bilbo had agreed to move in with him, because he knew Thorin was worried about him, because Azog was dangerous.  
  
Maybe they should just tell Gandalf and ask him to get his friend in the police to investigate him. And hope that it wouldn’t make things worse and that a miracle would happen and they'd find something to send him to jail for.  It would be a miracle since so far accusing Azog of anything had been like pouring water on a goose.  
  
Perhaps the better option would be to go after Saruman. Get rid of him from the hospital and they’d get rid of the one who protected Azog.

Thorin sighed and mentally slapped himself on the back of the head. Now was not the time to think about this. In two hours he would gear up for a surgery, and before then he’d better get his _own_ head into something like order.  
  
As if mocking that resolution his phone beeped with a text from Nori.  
  
 _‘Bring B. Come to my office. Re: A.’_

It looked like his mind would just have to remain unclear for a little while longer.  
  
-  
  
“I was planning on snagging you both later today, but then something else happened.”  
  
“Regarding Azog I take it?” Bilbo glanced towards the closed door leading into Gandalf’s office. “Gandalf’s not here right now?”  
  
“No, he’s at a conference. Not back until tomorrow morning. But never mind that. You need to listen to this.”  
  
Nori waved his phone and Thorin crossed his arms. “Then play it for us.”  
  
“Did you skip the classes on a proper bedside manner entirely?” Nori asked. “You’re what I’d find if I looked up grumpy in the dictionary.”

“You’re not one of my patients,” Thorin pointed out. “But I am seeing one of those in less than a couple of hours and I want to go over her information again. Regardless of what you’ve got on your phone I’m not going to allow _anything_ related to Azog to come close to causing harm to one of my patients.”  
  
“You agree that he’s grumpy, right?” Nori said to Bilbo who snorted and shook his head.  
  
“No comment.”  
  
“Which means yes.”  
  
“Nori,” Thorin growled. “I’m serious. I don’t have all day.”  
  
“Fine, fine. Okay, so listen to this.”

  
  
 _“Am I speaking to Azog Blake?”_  
  
 _“Yeah, what do you want?”_  
  
 _“Could you please confirm your day of birth and your address.”_  
  
 _“Tell me what you want. And it’s Doctor Blake. **Doctor**.”_  
  
 _“Doctor Blake, it’s a confidential matter. The verification is for your own protection.”_  
  
With an annoyed sigh Azog rattled off the required information.  
  
 _“Thank you. Doctor Blake, my name is Karen Reeds and I work with the Division of Children and Family Services. I am calling to inform you that your son, Bolg Blake, has been taken into protective custody following a claim of-”_  
  
 _“What!?”_  
  
 _“Doctor Blake, I understand that this would be upsetting for you, but please understand that we only want what is best for your son. An investigation will-“_  
  
 _“You can’t take my son from me. What the hell am I supposed to have done to him?”_  
  
 _“We received a claim of abuse, and as I am sure you know, your son’s school has on one earlier occasion filed a report regarding bruises on your son’s-“_  
  
 _“That report never led to anything. This is unacceptable. Who the **fuck** made the claim?”_  
  
 _“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information to you, Doctor Blake. We have an obligation to investigate-”_

_“He’s **my** son. Transfer me to your superior. **Now**.”_  
  
 _“Doctor Blake, Bolg’s mother has also been informed and-“_  
  
 _“You called that stupid bitch before you called me!?”_

  
  
Nori tapped his phone. “Let’s just say it doesn’t get any more pleasant from there on out, but at the end of that, Azog’s son was still in protective custody, and there will be an investigation.”  
  
“Oh dear,” Bilbo muttered. “You think- could he- I didn’t even remember that he had a son.”  
  
“At least the hospital board won’t be able to meddle in this,” Thorin said. “If they find something they won’t be able to brush it under the rug.”

He hadn’t really remembered that Azog had a son either, though he should have, because what kind of parent could that man be? Even if it wasn’t outright abuse, Thorin couldn’t imagine that he was fit to take care of anything living. Even one of Radagast’s stick insects would be to trust him with too much responsibility.  
  
“I’d not be too sure,” Nori said with a sigh. “But I imagine that will keep him busy for a while even so. So if we’re lucky we’ve won some time. What I was going to tell you was that I did some digging yesterday. About when Azog got suspended, and the family ended up taking back the accusations. Turns out they came into some money around that exact time.”  
  
“Are you telling me that their daughter almost _died_ and they pulled their accusations because they were _bribed_? That’s disgusting,” Thorin growled.  
  
“I couldn’t talk to them,” Nori said. “But they did _not_ seem happy. And the money is just sitting in their account, not getting used. Don’t ask me how I know that. Erm, any of it.”  
  
“But if they got money, then that must have left a paper trail,” Bilbo said. “Something that could be traced to Saruman, or someone in the board of directors.”  
  
“Maybe,” Nori agreed. “But that’s a bit above what I can track down. So do we tell Dís or do we tell Gandalf? We’ll basically need a court order, but the cops could help with that as well. And it would perhaps carry more weight.”  
  
They all jumped when Nori’s phone rang, and before the redhead had managed to reject the call Thorin had seen a very familiar face flash across the screen.  
  
“So you’ve got a picture of Dwalin on your phone?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.  
  
“I thought you were in a hurry,” Nori said, pocketing his phone. “Shoo, go save some lives or something.”  
  
“Come by Thorin’s flat later?” Bilbo suggested. “Have dinner with us. We-“  
  
The phone rang again.  
  
“Excuse me,” Nori said and fished up the phone. “Dwalin, this isn’t- what? _Now_?”  
  
Bilbo caught Thorin’s eyes and nodded his head towards the door. “No wait,” Nori said, holding up a hand. “Are you telling me that Azog is here at hospital?”  
  
“ _What_?” Thorin growled.  
  
-  
  
“What the hell are you doing here?” Thorin snarled as he stormed down the corridor towards Azog, Bilbo following even though Thorin had asked him to stay with Nori. It made Thorin equal amounts proud and frustrated beyond what words could describe.  
  
“I work here,” Azog smirked, and the smile did not even come close to touching his eyes. “Getting senile in your old age, Oakenshield?”  
  
“You’re not working here right now,” Thorin said, managing to restrained himself from pointing out that Azog did not even deserve to be in the same neighbourhood as Erebor.  
  
Raising his eyebrows in mock surprise Azog looked down at himself. “Well that explains why I’m dressed in my street clothes. Gee, you’re a smart one aren’t you. Shame you’re not quite smart enough or you’d’ve learnt to mind your own business. Haven’t your little friend told you what happens to those who snoop?” Azog turned his cold eyes to Bilbo who blanched slightly but held his head high. “I thought we had such a rewarding conversation. Don’t you agree, Doctor Baggins?”  
  
“Don’t talk to him,” Thorin took a step forward to firmly place himself between Azog and Bilbo. “You’re not working, so go away.”  
  
“Such _hostility_ ,” Azog tutted. “I’m just collecting something I forgot in my office, then I’ll be gone. Believe me, I’ve got better things to do.” A leer spread over the broad pale face. “Speaking of, our esteemed Doctor Baggins here must be a great lay If you’ve stopped fucking your sister. Or are you doing them both?”  
  
Thorin took another step forward but stopped when something snagged his coat. Bilbo.  
  
“It’s not worth it,” Bilbo said. “ _He_ ’s not worth it.”  
  
“I’m crushed,” Azog sighed. “Well, I best be off. See you both around.”  
  
Thorin just barely stopped himself from punching the wall as Azog sauntered off, he might have; even knowing that it would have made him unable to do the scheduled operation, if Bilbo hadn’t let out a shaky breath and swayed slightly.  
  
“Hey,” Thorin said, concern immediately replacing fury. “Let’s go sit down.”  
  
“You need to prepare for the surgery,” Bilbo said with a weak smile. “I’m fine. I’m just- I thought- I think that went both better and worse than I expected.”  
  
“I’ll walk you to your office,” Thorin offered. “Or to Nori if you want.”  
  
“My office,” Bilbo said firmly. “And only because yours is in the same direction.”  
  
As was Azog’s and Thorin gritted his teeth. “Want to stop by the cafeteria first?”  
  
Bilbo gave him a narrowed eye look. “You’re not fooling me. It’s fine. I promise. He’s most likely the most horrible person I’ve ever met, I can honestly admit that I’d not want to be alone in a room with him, but it’s in the middle of the day and there are people popping in and out all over the place. He’s not going to try anything with that many witnesses around. Come on now, before you’re late.”

Thorin let Bilbo tug him along in the corridor and he did his best to think about the approaching surgery but his mind kept coming back to Azog, and the look in Bilbo’s eyes when Thorin had found him in the playground. And why hadn't Azog seemed worried? Had the abuse report already been dropped and if so, how the hell had Saruman managed that?

If Nori came by for dinner there would be a lot to discuss and decide, because this couldn't be allowed to continue.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow was this hard to write. The Big Bang bunnies (Alliteration !) really did a number on my writing abilities. It started out so good but this was like trying to give birth to an ostrich egg.
> 
> Still, I struggled through! If you've waited for this, I hope you like.
> 
>  
> 
> Erm, warning!!! Azog is a horrible person and this chapter has non-con touching, nasty language, and some physical violence.

Having a plan should be a good thing. Right? So why didn’t Bilbo feel a sense of relief, of contentment, of- of something at least _close_ to peace or the beginnings of it?  
  
They had decided to tell Gandalf about everything. About Azog, about Saruman, about Lalaith. They; Nori, Thorin and Bilbo, would do it as Gandalf came back from the conference because as Nori said, they’d proved that phones weren’t exactly safe so best do it between four eyes, or eight as it were.  
  
Gandalf should technically have been back already, but there’d been a storm on the west coast that had delayed all outbound flights. Perhaps that was part of Bilbo’s feeling of unease. A sign that something would go awry when they told him. He was an old man after all, maybe they’d end up shocking him bad enough that he had a heart attack. Just in case they should probably talk to him at the hospital…

Then again, Gandalf had the tendency to never be around when you wanted him to, though he was always around when you needed him. And Bilbo didn’t really believe that he’d have a heart attack. Or in bad signs. He just wanted to have it over and done with. But there wasn’t really any rush to tell Gandalf, they could wait another few hours, a day. Azog would still be out of the hospital. It wouldn’t matter. Except maybe to Bilbo’s nerves, but they could just go and have a cuppa and a lie down.  
  
His nerves had managed to keep his hands steady while operating in what still counted as a warzone, they could get him through this as well. The image of Azog’s pale eyes flashed through Bilbo’s mind and he resolutely ignored it.  
  
Thorin had already told Dís and apparently she had turned into a raging dragon, prepared to go to war or even start one. Much as Thorin had suspected… which he’s made sure to point out when he’d called Bilbo earlier. In the background there had been the sounds of a woman cursing and Bilbo would bet everything he had on that he knew who that was. Still, as they would both be by to pick him up in less than an hour Thorin must trust that it would be enough time for her to calm down. Or maybe she could wait in the car.  
  
Bilbo sighed and tapped the end of his pen against his desk. When he and Thorin had talked with Nori the other night everything had felt good, clear. He wasn’t sure why he didn’t still feel that way. Part was probably just that he really wanted it to be over, to put it in Gandalf’s hands; at least for a little while, but Azog had sounded so _confident_ when they’d run into him. Like the fact that his son being taken into protective care wasn’t even a problem. It could just be that he didn’t really care about his son, but from the phone call there was at least something like prestige involved. So why had he calmed down so quickly?  
  
Bilbo didn’t know and didn’t like that he didn’t know. And Nori flat out _hated_ that Azog hadn’t made or received any phone calls about it as it left them in the dark. But regardless, they both agreed with Thorin that they had to do something. That’s why they’d gathered round Thorin’s dinner table the night before.  
  
-

_“I’m not going to allow him to go back to work,” Thorin stated, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “I don’t care if Saruman gets me fired or what he threatens to do, we’ll take actions to prevent that, and we’ll get Azog put in jail.”_

_“What do you want us to do then?” Nori replied with a sigh. “We still don’t have enough to get him arrested, much less put in jail. Unless he’s going to get convicted for child abuse, but I’ve not-“_   
  
_“We’re going to tell Gandalf, tell Dís, tell everyone. I’m willing to go around the hospital handing out fliers if that’s what it’d take,” Thorin said firmly. “People know that Azog is a bad doctor, they’re just afraid to say anything. What happened to Lalaith **might** be the first time he asked to have someone killed, but she’s hardly going to be the first one he’s threatened.”_   
  
_“The truth is out there,” Bilbo said with a wry smile. “We know that what we’re saying is true, but are we going to be able to prove it?”_   
  
_“At this point I don’t care,” Thorin said. “People do get fired for things that have no basis in reality.”_   
  
_His smile was slightly wry, no doubt he remembered his own suspension._   
  
_“If enough people believe us Saruman will have to let Azog go. The backlash against the hospital would be too huge. It won’t put either of them in jail, but it will definitely stop Azog from killing people in the OR and calling it surgery. No other hospital will touch him either. It’s a start.”_   
  
_“And what’s going to stop him from coming after the two of you?” Nori asked._   
  
_“Either Gandalf’s friend in the police can arrange for us to have a guard or I’ll hire private security.” Thorin placed both his palms on the table and leaned towards Nori. “I’m not going to let him continue to do this. I won’t. The only line I have left to cross now is that I’m not going to sink to simply killing the bastard. But other than that, I do not care. I’m willing to fake evidence, lie myself blue in court if that would get him convicted of something. **Anything**. I don’t **care**!”_   
  
_As Thorin leaned back into the chair he was breathing heavily, and he flinched when a small hand touched his thigh._   
  
_“Deep breaths for you,” Bilbo murmured as he gently stroked his fingers along the tense muscle._   
  
_“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, placing his hand over Bilbo’s. “I’m just- I’m done with this. Seeing him today- I wouldn’t be surprised if he was only at Erebor because he was collecting his drugs. I just wish I’d thought of this sooner as we could have asked Dwalin for someone to search him.”_   
  
_“He might be smarter than that,” Nori said and rubbed at his nose. “Maybe. I’m not sure.”_   
  
_“Doesn’t matter,” Thorin rumbled. “Too late anyway. But that was the final straw. If he’s now being investigated for child abuse this might be the best opportunity to do something. Get our story out into the open. Journalists will jump at the chance of a big fat scandal at one of the country’s top hospitals.”_   
  
_Thorin’s fist clenched on the table and Bilbo put his hand over it._   
  
_“It has to be horrible,” he murmured. “If you feel you’re sacrificing Erebor’s reputation to get rid of Azog.”_   
  
_“Erebor is only as good as the worst working there,” Thorin sighed. “Care to have a guess at who I think that is?”_   
  
_“Hey, I always try to do my best,” Nori joked, and Bilbo smiled at him for the attempt. Thorin didn’t._

_“Right. So...” Nori continued with a sigh. “Gandalf won’t be back as previously planned. “His first **and** his connecting flight were both delayed. Might have to take the train actually.”_

_“I’m talking to Dís before we're talking to him anyway,” Thorin said. “Saruman threatened her and the boys, I’m not doing anything before she knows about it, before we get Fíli and Kíli somewhere safe.”_  
  
 _“Not your sister?” Bilbo asked and Thorin snorted._  
  
 _“There is not a chance in hell that she’d agree to it.”_  
  
-

If someone had told _Thorin_ to hide Bilbo doubted that he would have listened. Speaking about dragons before; Thorin would be the kind who’d go charging at them if he thought it was for the greater good.  
  
But at least the boys were going to go and stay out of town with relatives, and after they’d talked with Gandalf and knew what he wanted them to do Bilbo was going to talk to Esme as well, just to make sure she stayed safe. Or well, just so that she, Sar and Merry were safe.  
  
Azog most likely had no idea that they even existed, and Esme wouldn’t agree to go someplace safe anymore than Dís would, but still, he had to try. And if they were prepared.

Bilbo flinched when his phone beeped cheerfully and vibrated a few times in his pocket. It was a text from Thorin, letting him know that he and Dís would be around earlier than they thought, and if Bilbo wasn’t done they would just wait for him in Nori’s office, not to disturb him.            
  
“Right,” Bilbo murmured. “Like you’re not going to come down here. Sure.”  
  
Maybe Dís had written the text, because Bilbo rather expected Thorin’s hovering to continue pretty much until they got Azog arrested which was why Bilbo wasn’t the least bit surprised when he heard the door to his office open some ten minutes later.  
  
“I didn’t know this had become Nori’s office,” Bilbo told Thorin without bothering to look up.  
  
“Neither did I.”  
  
The door closed with a click and Bilbo’s head snapped up with enough speed to make his neck twinge when he recognized the one who had just spoken. It wasn’t Thorin, it wasn’t Dís, it wasn’t even Radagast.  
  
“ _Azog_ ,” Bilbo breathed.

“The one and only,” Azog grinned and strolled up to the desk. “You sound like you missed me.”  
  
Bilbo’s eyes widened as he took in Azog’s pin prick pupils, the way his hands were shaking slightly, and the _knife_ he held in one of said hands. It gleamed in the overhead light, and looked entirely too sharp. Neither of those three things was good, and together they were so not good that it wasn't even remotely funny.

“Sit down,” Azog commanded when Bilbo reflexively rose to his feet. “We’re going to have a little talk.”  
  
“I’ll scream,” Bilbo said, not taking his eyes away from the knife.  
  
“Really? Even if I promise to kill anyone who comes in here?” The grin on Azog’s face grew broader when Bilbo paled and sat back down again. “Good boy. Obedient _and_ a good fuck? I guess I know what Oakenshield keeps you around for. I bet he’ll miss you. Until he starts fucking his sister again. Or,” Azog tapped a nail against the blade of the knife. “Or until he’s busy with other things. Like dying.”  
  
Bilbo glanced at the door. It was quite far away. _If_ he screamed, and someone came, they’d probably get the door open before Azog could get to them. And all they had to do was to close it again and get help.  
  
Azog caught his gaze and smirked. “Try it. Your guts will be over the desk the second after you scream and that’ll leave me plenty of time to go stand by the door.”  
  
“You don’t want to do this,” Bilbo tried.  
  
“Not very bright though,” Azog mused. “Could be a point in your favour I guess.”  
  
“You’ll not get away with this,” Bilbo said, recoiling when Azog began to laugh.  
  
“Do you understand what that sounds like coming from you?” At this point Azog’s grin could only be described as maniacal. “I can do _anything_. I could go into the cafeteria and cut the throat of the first person I see and Saruman would get it to look like an accident.”  
  
“He wouldn’t,” Bilbo protested, and he wished that he felt more sure of that than he actually did. And he desperately wished that Azog wouldn’t try. Regardless of if he got away with it or not, someone would still be dead.  
  
Azog paid Bilbo’s objection no mind and continued as if the interruption had never happened.  
  
“Just as I’m not going to be blamed for this. I had the day off, so of course I wasn’t even here when the _tragic_ thing happened.” Azog’s eyes seemed to burn like the blue centre of a flame. “I told you before, I do wonder what you look like on the inside.”  
  
To Bilbo’s surprise Azog turned around after saying that and walked towards the door. Seeing a chance Bilbo snagged a thick binder off his desk and lobbed it at the back of Azog’s head. The binder was almost four inches thick but Azog didn’t as much as wince when it hit the back of his head.  
  
“Only making it worse,” he said in an almost playful sing-song tone of voice as he locked the door. The clicking sound felt as loud as a gunshot to Bilbo. “There, now we won’t be disturbed.”  
  
Heart in his throat Bilbo got up on his feet. His desk was pretty big, if he kept it between him and Azog he probably wouldn’t be able to reach him. Probably. And Thorin would stop by, and when he found that the door was locked, when he heard voices, he would- probably going to do something ill advised. But the truth was that Bilbo didn’t exactly see any logical steps of action at this point.

“Puppy wants to play?” Azog smirked when he saw that Bilbo was no longer seated on the chair. “How precious.”

Still remaining behind the desk Bilbo took a step back as Azog walked towards him. “Azog, listen to me. If you kill me you’ll-“  
  
Azog laughed. “Maybe I won’t kill you then. I’ll just cut out your tongue and see how Oakenshield likes you then. Might even thank me. You don’t have the sense to know when to be quiet.” His eyes hardened. “So remember what I said. Anyone comes in here, I’m going to kill them.”

Unbidden Bilbo’s eyes slipped back to the door. Please let Thorin and Dís actually go to Nori’s office. Please.

When Azog started walking around the desk Bilbo darted to the other side, maybe he could get to the-  
  
“None of that now,” Azog growled and turned to walk in the other direction. Bilbo immediately switched drection as well and Azog grunted and walked back to stand just at the middle of the desk. “Puppy wants to play but I don’t like this game.”  
  
Still holding the knife Azog put the heels of his hands against the side of the desk and pushed.  
  
Bilbo’s desk was made out of heavy wood and had no less than seven well-filled drawers and it was definitely not some flimsy IKEA thing, but the large man still moved it as if it weighed nothing.  
  
As the desk slid across the floor Bilbo took a step back, and another one, but then he bumped into the wall behind him. When the desk more or less crashed into his stomach and trapped him against the wall Bilbo couldn’t help but cry out in pain, his hands scrambling to try and push it away.  
  
“Shh,” Azog cautioned, pushing the edge further into Bilbo’s belly. “What did we say about loud noises.” Seemingly satisfied with the grimace of pain on Bilbo’s face Azog nodded and then climbed up on the table, rubbing at his left arm as he did so. His added weight definitely made it impossible for Bilbo to push it away, and trying to shrink back against the wall was just as useless.  
  
Knowing it wouldn’t help Bilbo still snatched up a stapler from the desk and brandished it as threateningly as possible at the other man. Maybe he could use it as a shield of sorts, to deflect the knife, but Bilbo rather regretted throwing the binder away. It probably wouldn’t have been much use anyway because even with Azog only kneeling on the desk he still towered over Bilbo and he was more than close enough to do all sorts of unpleasant things with that knife.  
  
Azog’s lip curled in something between a smirk and a snarl.  
  
“If you beg me, I’ll let you live.”  
  
Bilbo didn’t lower the stapler. “No you won’t.”  
  
“Such distrust,” Azog tutted. “I _would_. But that’s not to say I’d leave you entirely in the same state as I found you in. What would be the fun in that. I’m thinking… I might as well do Oakenshield a favour. Let him have some fun, before I kill him.”  
  
“You’re not going to touch him,” Bilbo objected, feeling proud when his voice didn’t shake. “And someone will have seen you come in the hospital. The security-.“

”Is useless and you know it.” Azog reached out and snatched Bilbo’s left wrist, easily circling it with his fingers. “Drop the stapler or I’ll break your wrist. Might do it anyway, but maybe not.”

Biting his lip Bilbo did as Azog asked, hissing when his wrist was squeezed even tighter; tight enough that he felt the bones grind against each other, before it was released. As soon as his hand was released Bilbo snatched it back and cradled it against his chest. His head rocked back as Azog backhanded him.  
  
"That's for the binder, puppy," Azog growled, grabbing Bilbo's hand again.  
  
“I was thinking,” the large man said conversationally as he put the edge of the knife flat against Bilbo’s wrist. “That a surgeon without his hands is a tragic thing. But lucky for you, you don’t need to have hands to be fucked. So you can still keep Oakenshield happy for however long he has left. Unless he really liked handjobs.” Azog chuckled.  
  
Bilbo’s heart was pounding so hard that it felt as if it was to come leaping out of his chest. Azog wouldn’t be able to actually cut off his hands with a knife like that, but if he severed enough tendons that would do the job well enough.  
  
“Please don’t,” Bilbo blurted. “Please.”  
  
“Go on,” Azog demanded, pressing down the knife enough that Bilbo felt a sharp sting, and then the first drops of blood came welling up in a red line. “Beg me.”  
  
“Please don’t do this. Please. I won’t tell anyone that you were here.”  
  
“Pretty lies,” Azog remarked. “But pretty indeed. Oakenshield the one to teach you to beg?”  
  
Bilbo hadn’t really thought that things could get much worse, but two horrible things happened almost at the same time. Not lifting the knife away from Bilbo’s wrist Azog tightened his grip on it and  pulled Bilbo’s hand up to rest at his denim covered crotch. At the same time Bilbo heard someone try and open the door.  
  
“How nicely _can_ you beg?” Azog asked and moved the knife to rest against Bilbo’s throat.  
  
“Bilbo?” Thorin called through the door. “Are you in there?”  
  
“Oakenshield,” Azog murmured quietly and chuckled. “He can wait his turn.”

Bilbo’s head was filled of white noise, and rather absurdly he was very upset to see the hand resting over Azog’s crotch shake quite noticeably.

“Bilbo?” The door had a window, but the glass was frosted to provide privacy when Bilbo met with his patients. It was only see-through enough that Bilbo saw a shadow stand outside the door, and then move away.

Then Bilbo’s phone started to ring, loud and clear, buzzing its way in a small circle on the desk, and after a few seconds the shadow came back to stand at the door.  
  
“Bilbo? Are you there?” Thorin knocked on the door. The phone stopped ringing, only to almost immediately start again.  
  
“He- I always keep my phone with me,” Bilbo said, his voice barely louder than a whisper. “He’ll- he’ll not go away.”  
  
Azog sighed and moved the knife until the tip rested between Bilbo’s collar bones, at the base of his neck. He pressed down, and Bilbo flinched as he felt the skin break.  
  
“I guess it’s time to get this over with then.”  
  
“Please don’t,” Bilbo begged. “I’ll- I can make him go away. And- and-“  
  
“Shhh,” Azog shook his head. “Tell you what, you decide how I kill him while I take my medicine. And-“ Azog grinned. “Best make it good or I’ll have you watch as I do it.”  
  
Letting go of Bilbo’s hand Azog got down from the desk, but braced a hip against it. He put the knife down, but it was much too far away for Bilbo too reach and all the blond could do as Azog pulled a syringe from his coat pocket was to watch. He couldn’t reach his mobile either, not that he knew what he would do with it if he could.  
  
If he wanted to talk to Thorin all he had to do was to raise his voice. Only then Thorin definitely would not go away. And it would be Bilbo's fault when he got killed.  
  
“Maybe I’m going about this all wrong,” Azog mused as he shrugged out of his coat and began rolling up the left sleeve of his shirt. “Maybe it’s Oakenshield’s tongue and hands I should take. Would certainly keep him out of trouble. And then I could still get to see what your inside looks like.”  
  
Very efficiently Azog found a vein and inserted the needle. In somewhat of a daze Bilbo noticed other small, bruises littering the inside of Azog’s arm.

“Bilbo if you don’t open the door I’m going to assume something is wrong and get Radagast to open it. If you’re with a patient just-“  
  
Azog sighed contently as the last of the drug was injected into his blood. “Decided yet?”  
  
“You can’t really think that you’ll get away with this,” Bilbo tried to reason with him. “Saruman can’t explain away, or hide, two murders at the hospital. People will have seen you.”  
  
“People know when to keep their mouths shut,” Azog growled. “Most of them anyway. Maybe both your tongues would be best.” His mouth twisted up in a mockery of a smile. “Stay there, I’ll be right back.” With that he started to walk to the door, doubtlessly to unlock it and allow Thorin to come in, and then-  
  
Bilbo licked his lips. He- he was most likely going to die here. But Thorin wouldn’t. He would make sure of it.  
  
“DON’T COME IN, AZOG IS HERE!”  
  
“You little bastard,” Azog growled as he spun around.  
  
The knocking on the door resumed, but as much louder banging. “Bilbo!”  
  
Bilbo felt like crying. Why couldn’t Thorin ever do the sensible thing and just leave him, go and get help. It was the parking lot all over again.

“You are going to regret that,” Azog informed him as he took a step towards the desk, and another. “And then he is going to regret that. And then you’re going to-“  
  
When Azog suddenly collapsed on the floor Bilbo didn’t know what to think. And even less so when he didn’t get up again. The desk was in the way and Bilbo could only see his feet. They twitched once before stilling.  
  
“Bilbo!”  
  
Was it a trick? Was this the way he was going to get Thorin into the room, catch them both off guard?

“BILBO!”  
  
At least the amount of noise Thorin was making was sure to bring most of the hospital to his office as well.  
  
Bilbo swallowed and licked his lips. “I’m here!”  
  
The banging on the door ceased. For a single moment everything was quiet.  
  
Only for Bilbo to try and flinch back as Thorin smashed in the frosted window on the door. The shards rained down on the floor and with it out of the way Bilbo met Thorin’s eyes. The blond’s mouth opened and closed without any sound coming out. He didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell Thorin to run away and to come and get him away from Azog, all at once.  
  
Thorin’s blue eyes turned frost as he took in the scene before him.

“I’m kicking in the door,” he said shortly, proceeding to do just that. Under other circumstances Bilbo might have been impressed with how easily he did it.  
  
Azog’s feet didn’t as much as twitch, not even when the door almost fell on top of him.  
  
“Don’t go near him,” Bilbo cautioned. “He might be pretending.” Biting his lip he pressed against the table and managed to move it about an inch. Taking a deep breath he tried again.  
  
Thorin’s eyes was fixed on something on the floor. “He hurt you.”  
  
“He didn’t really have time-“  
  
“There is _blood_ on the knife,” Thorin said flatly. “And on you. I’m going to _kill_ him.” He paused. “Though I’m not sure he’s actually breathing.”  
  
“What?” With a final push Bilbo managed to shift the table enough that he could slip away. More or less pressing himself to the walls of the room Bilbo rounded Azog and barrelled into Thorin’s arms which closed tightly around him. Glancing to his left Bilbo looked down at Azog, and indeed, he didn’t really look to be breathing. Or- no, he _was_ , but just barely. The rise and fall of his chest was hardly even noticeable.

“We have to get help.”  
  
“You have to be kidding?” Thorin said and pulled back to look at Bilbo. “Bilbo- this is-“  
  
“This is definitely enough evidence to get him convicted,” Bilbo said and licked his lips. “And he’s hardly going to be able to testify against Saruman if he’s dead.”  
  
Again there was a moment’s silence, then Thorin swore and removed one arm from around Bilbo to pluck his mobile from his pocket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors love comments. If you love stories, please keep this in mind.


	13. Chapter 13

“Sir, _please_ sit down,” the young woman sitting at the reception said, and not for the first time.  
  
Thorin just barely refrained from growling at her. It wasn’t her fault that Bilbo had been shut up in a room for close to an hour. But fuck if Thorin knew what was taking so long. His own statement had been over and done with in ten minutes. And why couldn’t they have done this some other time anyway? Or at the hospital? It’s not like either of them would forget what had just happened if they’d waited ‘til the next morning. Or month. The police could hardly be in a rush to arrest Azog anyway, bad form to arrest someone who might just die on them before the handcuffs came on.  
  
The way they’d been brought to the station and been almost _dragged_ to the elevators upon arrival, and then immediately taken into separate rooms… It was almost as if the police thought that _they_ were at fault.  
  
Thorin gritted his teeth. If Bilbo was taking so long because that bastard Saruman somehow had ties with the police and -

“Sir, I’m not carrying a gun at the moment but I _do_ know where to get one.”  
  
“You’re really threatening to shoot someone at the police station?” Thorin asked, turning to look the redheaded woman in the eyes. Unfazed by his glare she looked back up at him and calmly raised an eyebrow.

“Will it make you sit down if I say yes?”  
  
“No.” Thorin continued to walk to and fro in the waiting area, attention aimed at the corridor leading to the elevators, the elevators that, if they knew what was good for them, would hurry up and bring Bilbo back. He took a deep breath to try and calm down. It didn’t work.  
  
“I can have you escorted from the premises.”  
  
“Try and you will be hearing from my lawyers.” Well, Dís. But she was good enough to count as several. “There hardly anyone else here, I can’t be said to cause a disturbance. I simply do not wish to sit down.”  
  
Thorin wasn’t sure what he had been expecting to see inside a police station, but television had led him to believe that it was rather more hectic than what he’d actually found. Apart from himself and the young lady, there were only two other people, both sitting at the other end of the lobby. Maybe crime rested on Tuesdays.  
  
“And wearing a ditch into the floor is not a disturbance?” When Thorin turned to look at her again, her face softened. “Who are you waiting for, a kid? Partner?”  
  
When Thorin didn’t reply she shrugged and leaned back in her chair. “If you came in with someone I missed it and I’m only asking now because I might be able to help you find out if they’re done soon.” Eyebrow quirked again she tapped her nails on the top of her computer screen. “We’ve got access to these magic boxes.”  
  
“Bilbo Baggins,” Thorin said and folded his arms over his chest. “He’s here to give a statement. Please check.”  
  
“That ‘please’ sounded like it hurt,” the young lady muttered. Her fingers raced over the keyboard and something she found made her eyebrow arch again. “Huh, well I can call up and ask if they’ll be long. If you _sit_ _down_. Would Doctor Baggins want you to act like this?”  
  
Thorin narrowed his eyes. There was an amused note in her voice, as if she really knew that Bilbo would stomp his foot and huff in annoyance if he saw how Thorin was acting. And also, he’d not told her that Bilbo was a doctor. Maybe it was in the information she could see on her screen but maybe-  
  
“You almost sound as if you know him.”  
  
“I do, a little,” the redhead said with a small smile. “When you said his name- well it’s not like Bilbo is that common of a name but-“  
  
“How do you know him?” Thorin asked, telling himself that it certainly wasn’t a sliver of jealous that he felt. That would be ridiculous. Even if this woman was very attractive she was still a she and Bilbo had never given any indication that he swung that way.  
  
“My father worked at the Shire for a time. It’s years ago now, but I-“  
  
“He doesn’t work at Shire Hospitals anymore.”  
  
Thorin scowled, as much at himself as at the girl. If one knew one were acting in a manner very unbecoming, why wasn’t it easier to stop? There was no reason for him to point out that Bilbo had left the Shire, it’s not like the girl had tried to lay claim to him on someone’s behalf.  
  
“No? Where then?”  
  
“Erebor.”  
  
The redhead’s eyes widened and Thorin immediately bristled at the shock he saw in them. There was absolutely nothing wrong with working in Erebor. Except Azog and Saruman, but-  
  
“Don’t tell me that Doctor _Baggins_ is here because of the investigation that’s just started about one of your doctors?” Her eyes widened further and a hint of pink touched her cheeks. “And I did _not_ just say that. Confidentially, and so on.”  
  
Thorin was beginning to suspect that the redhead wasn’t usually manning the reception, or if she was, she probably shouldn’t be allowed to continue. But he kept those ideas to himself.  
  
“Yes,” Thorin sighed. “He’s here to give a _statement_. I’ve already given mine. Could you please let me know if he’ll be allowed to go soon? Or is he-”  
  
“Tauriel?”  
  
Thorin snapped his head to the left, eyes hurriedly taking in the form of his lover, from the top of his curly head down to the tan loafers he was wearing. Bilbo seemed to be in one piece still, there was colour in his cheeks and his gaze was steady. And currently focused on the redhead.  
  
“Doctor Baggins!” The girl, Tauriel, smiled and stood up. She walked around the long desk and stopped next to Thorin at the same time Bilbo did.  
  
Thorin again refrained from growling as the girl leaned in and gave Bilbo a hug. Just barely.  
  
All his instincts were screaming at him to get Bilbo back to the flat, away from everyone else, and roll him up in blankets.  
  
Compared to the last time Bilbo was alone with Azog he seemed perfectly fine, but Thorin didn’t trust it for a second. They’d not had a quiet moment since Thorin had phoned Dwalin to tell him about Azog lying unconscious in Bilbo’s office, and it was possible that Bilbo might still react badly to what had happened. Just because he wasn’t as obviously in shock as the last time did it mean that everything was all right. It was called _post_ traumatic stress for a reason.  
  
“You were not this tall when I saw you last,” Bilbo said and shook his head. “Or are you too old for me to tell you how much you’ve grown?”  
  
“Since I’m not expecting to grow more I’m not expecting you to have to repeat it, I’ll look between the fingers this time.” Tauriel grinned. “It’s so good to see you! I can’t believe you recognized me.”  
  
“I’ll confess that your hair helped,” Bilbo chuckled. “But you did always want to be a police officer, or a pirate.”  
  
“I’m still in Uni,” Tauriel explained. “But I’m hoping I can get in on the fast track as soon as I have my degree. You’ve met Arwen, right? Her husband works here and he got me-“  
  
“Arwen is married?” Bilbo blinked. “I thought Elrond was rather grumpy when I last spoke to him, but I thought he still hadn’t forgiven me for quitting.” Some of Bibo’s good mood slipped away. “Both of you grew up without me noticing, didn’t you.”  
  
“Bilbo.” Thorin put his hand on Bilbo’s arm to catch his attention. “I think we ought to be going.”  
  
“Oh,” Bilbo covered Thorin’s hand with his own and patted it absentmindedly. “Right. I guess we should.” A small frown crept over his face. “Though none of us have a car here.”  
  
“I’ll ring a taxi for you?” Tauriel offered. “Or if you go outside you’ve got a taxi stand two streets over. Up by Brandywine Road.”  
  
Bilbo glanced at Thorin who tried his best to seem neutral to the decision. He wasn’t sure how well he succeeded as he could feel his brows trying to knit themselves together.  
  
“I think we’ll walk,” Bilbo said and curled his fingers around Thorin’s to give them a small squeeze. “My legs could use some stretching. But before we go…” With his free hand Bilbo fumbled for his wallet in his coat pocket and then regretfully let go of Thorin’s hand to take out a business card. “If you want to meet sometime. To…” Bilbo licked his lips. “To talk about your father. Or other things.”  
  
The young woman nodded. “I’d like that.”  
  
“Me too.” Bilbo smiled up at her.  
  
Thorin bit his tongue. The last thing he wanted to do was to try and take control away from Bilbo considering the events of the day so far, but it was hard not to try and speed things along so they could get home and to the blanket part of the proceedings. Thankfully they said their good-byes shortly after that, and as they left the police station Thorin casually slid his arm around Bilbo’s shoulder, and kept it there when his lover made no protests.  
  
As they walked to try and find a taxi Bilbo filled the silence with talk about the girl and her father who had worked as a surgical tech at the Shire. Until he’d gotten sick.  
  
“If you’re sick I think the worst thing for you is probably to have friends who are doctors,” Bilbo said and sighed. “Surgeons in particular. Because we think that we can fix everything, don’t we? It’s what we do all day long. We fix things. We make people better. And if we can’t do that…”  
  
“How did he become ill?” Thorin asked.  
  
“It was Parkinson’s.” Bilbo looked down as if the sidewalk was particularly interesting before glancing back up at Thorin again. “With an unusually rapid onset and aggressive deterioration even though he wasn’t even 50. three years after the diagnosis he died from pneumonia, but he’d already left us a fair while before that.”  
  
“Was that why you were asking about treatments for Parkinson’s when we just met?” Thorin asked. “About the paper I had written.”  
  
“In a way.” Bilbo sighed again. “He died years ago. But it became a subject of interest to me. It still can’t understand-“ He fell silent, and didn’t speak again until Thorin squeezed his shoulder.  
  
“I guess I just can’t accept that there’s nothing to be done to cure it. Accepting that someone is never going to get better, just worse, that feels like giving up.” Bilbo shook his head. “And speaking of, for the three years he was sick we all tried to be there for his family. But afterwards… We lost touch with Tauriel and her mother.” Bilbo tilted his head to look up at Thorin as they waited by a traffic light. “Her mother… it was hard for her to be reminded. And we all tried to respect that but perhaps we shouldn't have. For Tauriel's sake.”  
  
“She seems to have grown up well.” She’d been very polite when threatening to shoot him.  
  
“Not due to anything her father’s friends did.” The light switched to green and they crossed the street, Thorin tucking Bilbo closer still against his side.  
  
“Then I went to Rwanda,” Bilbo continued. “And when I came back they’d moved. And I didn’t bother hunting them down again. I should have.”  
  
“There’s no reason to beat yourself up about it,” Thorin pointed out. “She really does seem to have grown up well. And if given a second chance, it seems like you wouldn’t do it again. So let what has happen remain in the past and make sure you do not let her disappear again. You know where to find her now.”  
  
But with some well-deserved luck they would not be frogmarched into the police station ever again.  
  
Bilbo leaned against Thorin’s side. "It might not come as a surprise to you, but I'm fond of children. To feel I’ve let one down… But no, you’re right. There’s no changing what has already happened, there is only making the best of what is still to come.”  
  
They crossed the street again, and as a line of three waiting taxi’s came into view Bilbo let out a small snort.  
  
"I've always pictured children in my future,” he said, looking up at Thorin. “And since meeting you, they've taken on dark hair and a somewhat surly disposition."  
  
"Is this your way of asking me to stop taking the pill?" Thorin asked drily and Bilbo made a sound something between a laugh and a cough. Taking advantage of his distraction Thorin ducked in to steal a kiss, and when it didn’t wish to be just a quick one Thorin stopped walking, lest they stroll into a streetlight from their distraction. Just like the police station the streets were almost empty, so it wasn’t like they were being a nuisance to the other pedestrians.

"I know it’s a bit soon to have this talk, but would you though?” Bilbo asked as he gently tucked a strand of Thorin’s hair away behind his ear. “Could you see yourself having children with me?"  
  
Thorin smiled and brushed their lips together again. "Yes. Only they've got curly hair and leave towels all over the bathroom floor and books on the kitchen table. And they are not surly, but perfectly pleasant as they refuse to listen to me."  
  
“You throw your towels over the laundry basket. I hardly see how that is an improvement.”  
  
“I’m not hearing any denials. About the books. Nor the not listening to me part.”  
  
“Your kitchen table is definitely big enough to room a couple of books as well as food.”  
  
“ _Our_ kitchen table.”  
  
Thorin shivered as it sunk in that if Azog hadn’t decided to overdose it might not have been _their_ kitchen table anymore. Anything could have happened. Thorin’s arms tightened around Bilbo to press them closer together.  
  
“Bilbo, I- What happened today. I couldn’t bear to lose you. To think that I might- to think that I had-“  
  
“Shhh,” Bilbo reached up and smoothed his hand over Thorin’s hair, cupping his face. “I’m fine. We’re both fine.”  
  
When Thorin made a low noise of protest Bilbo shushed him again and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “We’ll talk more when we’re home. But to do so we have to get home first”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin agreed, telling himself to stop being such a pathetic bastard. It was not Bilbo who was supposed to be comforting him. _He_ was not the one who had been trapped in a room with a mad man. “Let’s go home.”  
  
-  
  
“Do you want cookies?” Bilbo asked as they walked inside the flat. “I could make some.”  
  
“What?” Thorin asked, confused. “No, I don’t want cookies.” He snagged Bilbo’s sleeve and reeled him in, wrapping his arms around Bilbo’s smaller form and burying his face in Bilbo’s soft curls. “This though,” he rumbled. “This I need.”  
  
Bilbo’s arms crept up to curl around Thorin’s waist. “I rather feel like it’s over now?” the blond said quietly. “But that’s wrong isn’t it? Saruman is still around.”

“Yes,” Thorin agreed. “But Azog will not be a problem anymore.”  
  
“I hope not,” Bilbo said and rubbed his cheek against Thorin’s chest. “I told the police about everything. Not just what happened today, but the other things too.”  
  
Ah. So that was why it had taken so long. “I didn’t,” Thorin admitted. “I did not think to do so.”  
  
“They might ask you to come in again I guess,” Bilbo said. “Nori too since I admitted that we looked through Azog’s drawers and found the drugs before.”  
  
“Do you want me to call Dís?” Thorin asked. Maybe he should have agreed to let her come with them to the police station in the first place. Not in the least because it would keep her from yelling at them later; the quick text he had sent her in the taxi and prompted one with a fair amount of capitals in return. But she had agreed to stop by the next day, and not before, and that was the important thing. He needed no help wrapping Bilbo in all the blankets he owned.  
  
Bilbo shook his head in response to Thorin’s question. “I think they believed me. The hard part was not telling them anything about the phone and I didn’t say anything about Saruman. Not yet.”  
  
That was probably wise, no need to alarm the man before it was too late.  
  
“Still,” Thorin said. “Lawyers are not only for guilty people.” Thorin tilted Bilbo’s face upwards and leaned down to touch their foreheads together. “Despite what you might have seen on those horrible programmes you watch.”  
  
“Your telly is so tiny I must have gotten something confused,” Bilbo teased and curled his arms around Thorin’s neck. “So your sister will blame you for my notions.”  
  
“I did not make you watch the-“ Thorin wrinkled his nose. “I do not even remember what it’s called. And please let’s not waste even more time talking about it.” If he wanted to watch morons pretend that they were lawyers he could just go visit Dís when they interviewed for new interns.  
  
Thorin pulled back and brushed his thumbs over Bilbo’s cheeks. He’d not shaved since the day before and there was the slightest hint of stubble tickling the pads of Thorin’s fingers.  
  
“Are you all right? Truly.”  
  
“Look.” Bilbo held up his hand between them. “Steady.” The blond closed the small distance between their bodies and looked up at Thorin from beneath his lashes, something sly and very inviting suddenly sparkling in his eyes; sparking an answering flame in Thorin. “Want me to show you?”  
  
Instead of replying Thorin leaned in for a kiss.  
  
He wanted to crowd Bilbo against the closest wall and put himself between his lover and the rest of the world. He wanted to kiss him until they were both lightheaded and until Bilbo knew nothing but his taste and touch. But pushing Bilbo against a wall… Thorin didn’t want to do anything that could seem even remotely intimidating or aggressive. But perhaps…  
  
“Not this again,” Bilbo protested as Thorin picked him up. “I know I didn’t protest the first time but-“  
  
“Indeed you didn’t,” Thorin agreed. “You seemed very pleased. You kissed me.”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “Is that a hint?”  
  
“Feel free to take it as one,” Thorin suggested. With something rather close to a giggle Bilbo did just that.  
  
It started out almost chaste, and stayed chaste for approximately ten seconds.  
  
Thorin couldn’t get close enough; having Bilbo pressed up against him wasn’t even close to satisfying the howling beast inside his chest that would have been happy to leave Azog to die for trying to hurt Bilbo. And not having his hands free to touch didn't help one bit. Perhaps he should have thought twice about picking Bilbo up, but to put him down seemed like an even worse idea.  
  
As Thorin staggered into the bedroom and tried to put Bilbo down on the bed, Bilbo whined in protest. His hands tightened in Thorin’s hair, as did his legs around Thorin’s hips, and they both ended up tumbling onto the mattress in a way more suited for horny teenagers compared to middle-aged doctors.  
  
Thorin wasn’t sure if Bilbo noticed that a button from his shirt went missing as Thorin was perhaps a little too hasty in pulling it open, but he at least made no protests. Which could perhaps also be related to how he was too busy licking into Thorin’s mouth to voice any objections.  
  
Then came the point where Thorin froze.   
  
While Bilbo had been fully dressed there'd been no sign of the damage inflicted by Azog, but now Thorin could see the thin butterfly bandage at the base of his throat, and the one on his wrist, and even though it was too early for them to show, the skin around Bilbo's left wrist would soon be covered in bruises. It was still looking a little red, and when Thorin carefully stroked two fingers over the inside of it, over the pulse point, Bilbo tensed.   
  
"I'm fine," Bilbo said, covering Thorin's hand with his own. "I'm fine, I didn't even need any stitches and-"

The sound Thorin made landed somewhere between a chuckle and a sob and he reached up to cup Bilbo's face, pressing their lips together.  
  
When they were both naked Thorin allowed himself to crawl on top of Bilbo, covering the smaller man with his own body. As much as he loved kissing Bilbo, Thorin also kept their mouths pressed together to keep himself from blurting out things that would surely ruin the mood; like how he’d thought that he’d never been as scared as when he’d understood that Bilbo was trapped in a room with Azog, only to immediately prove himself wrong seconds later when Bilbo wouldn’t answer his calls.  
  
Thorin didn’t remember destroying the window on Bilbo’s door, or even how he did it, but he had no cuts on his hands so if he’d-  
  
“Take me,” Bilbo murmured against Thorin’s lips between urgent quick kisses. “I want you.”  
  
“Can’t,” Thorin replied and pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s neck. “Won’t last.” His body appeared to not care one bit about all the thoughts spinning around in his head, because there was no way he could keep from coming long enough to get Bilbo ready.  
  
“Please,” Bilbo breathed. He tilted his pelvis up and crossed his heels over Thorin’s arse. “I want you inside of me.”  
  
Thorin cursed, and then again as Bilbo moved in a way that made their cocks slide against each other.

“Another time,” Thorin promised before taking Bilbo’s mouth in another deep kiss. One ending with a small sharp sting on his bottom lip where Bilbo had just bit him.  
  
“Now.”  
  
“I’ll last a few strokes before coming. Maybe not even that much.” Thorin caught Bilbo’s hand, twinging their fingers together to stop it as it tried to snake between their bodies. “And that’s not going to help. You can take me if you want?”  
  
“I want to feel you,” Bilbo protested. “In me.” He fumbled beneath the closest pillow and made a small crow of triumph as he presented Thorin with a small bottle of lube.  
  
“I said-” Thorin began.  
  
“Your fingers then.” Bilbo squirmed beneath him. “Just- I want to feel you. In me. Please?”  
  
Bilbo ended up almost folded in two as none of them wanted him to get on his hands and knees. Thorin kept his eyes locked with Bilbo’s as he pushed in a second finger; probably a little too soon after the first one, but it was hard to say no when Bilbo was all but begging him for it.

“I love you,” Bilbo whispered. “So much. Thorin-“  
  
“And I you,” Thorin promised. “You are-“ he crooked his fingers and Bilbo’s eyes glazed over with pleasure. “You are _everything_.”  
  
-

It was much too early to go to sleep but that seemed to be something Thorin’s body was intent on ignoring. A glance at Bilbo proved that he was much in the same state. With his last remaining energy Thorin managed to get them both beneath the blankets, though not properly beneath the sheets. But since getting Bilbo wrapped up in blankets had been one of his major goals for the day, he was willing to call it a huge success anyway.  
  
-  
  
When Thorin woke up no light shone in from the window, and the room was dark except for the light spilling in from the hall, and the red digital numbers on his alarm clock which declared it to be just past ten pm. At first Thorin didn’t know what woke him, but a small hurt sound from his left made him snap his eyes to Bilbo.  
  
Behind closed eyelids Bilbo’s eyes kept flicking back and forth. All blankets were kicked into a pile at the foot of the bed and Bilbo shivered even though the bedroom was rather warm.  
  
“No,” Bilbo moaned, his arms twitching. “No.”  
  
“Bilbo,” Thorin said softly. “Bilbo, wake up.” He hovered a hand over Bilbo’s chest before letting it settle on cool skin.  
  
Bilbo gasped and opened his eyes, and when he noticed Thorin leaning over him he flinched back, but recognition quickly flooded back and erased the lost and haunted look. The next moment Thorin had his arms full of shivering lover.  
  
“Shhh,” Thorin soothed as he stroked his hand down Bilbo’s back, tangling his other in the curls at the nape of his neck. “It was just a dream.”  
  
Not knowing what else to do when Bilbo wouldn’t talk to him, nor stop shivering, Thorin managed to snag a blanket to pull over them as he started humming a song that his mother had always sung to him and his siblings when they were little.

He stopped when Bilbo muttered something too softly for him to make out the words, but there was no reply when Thorin asked him to repeat himself. Only a small, shuddering sigh.  
  
Thorin pressed a kiss to Bilbo’s temple before continuing the lullaby; which did its job.

It wasn’t long until Bilbo dropped off to sleep once more, but it was a much longer while still before Thorin followed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never been in a police station, and I think the method of things differ from country to country anyway, so let’s just pretend that something like this is plausible, mmkay. 
> 
> The next time we're going to begin to answer a few questions. I think. lol, the plot kinda took a bit of a break in this one.
> 
> And sorry if this isn't quite up to standard (whatever that is), it kept fighting meeee.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *is the dude from Titanic*
> 
> "Is there anyone alive out theeeeere!" 
> 
> lol, hi!   
> FYI, went back and edited the last chapter after it was kindly pointed out to me that I forgot about the cuts and bruises Bilbo was given by Azog. See anything else like that, please let me know.

“Did you-“ Thorin hesitated. “Your nightmare last night. Was it about Azog?”  
  
Bilbo stilled, and the egg that he’d been about to crack at the side of a bowl halted just shy of meeting its demise. He carefully set it down on the counter and turned to look at Thorin.  
  
“No, it wasn’t about Azog.”  
  
When Thorin’s face abruptly lost most of its colour Bilbo didn’t understand what was happening. Not until:  
  
“It- was it about me?”  
  
“What? No. No, no, no!” Bilbo protested, rushing over to the kitchen table where Thorin was seated. He didn’t bother to wait to be invited and instead wrapped one of Thorin’s arms around himself before squeezing himself down in Thorin’s lap. “No, why- of course not.”  
  
Thorin’s free hand came up to hover just over where a thin white bandage sat on Bilbo’s throat. It wasn't at all covered by the oversized T-shirt Bilbo had stolen from Thorin’s dresser, but instead of touching the hand continued up to burrow into messy curls as Thorin hid his face against the side of Bilbo’s neck.   
  
Bilbo clutched Thorin’s unbuttoned shirt with one hand while the other almost absently starting combing through messy, dark locks.  
  
“I dreamt about Smaug,” Bilbo said, voice barely loudly than a breath. “I don’t- well, it would be wrong to say I don’t know why. Because yesterday, it obviously reminded me, but-“ He bit his bottom lip. “I know you don’t like talking about him.”   
  
They’d never had another argument about him, or anything of the sort related to him, but Bilbo hadn’t failed to see Thorin tense when such subjects as academic fraud or domestic abuse were being discussed at Erebor, or even when seeing tall red-haired men when they were out together.   
  
“I, Bilbo-“ Thorin pulled back and when he saw the abuse being dealt to Bilbo’s lip he reached up to brush his thumb over it, freeing it from the teeth bruising it. “I don’t like what he did. I _hate_ what he did. I never want to- I don’t want you to have to think about it. And I _never_ want to be the one to remind you of him. But-“  
  
“Thorin-“  
  
“Please-“ Thorin’s thumb pressed a little firmer against Bilbo’s lip before he cupped his palm to Bilbo’s cheek. “Let me. Because Bilbo, if you wish to speak of him, of the dream. Anything. I’ll listen.”  
  
Thorin said the last bit while wearing an expression more suited for one volunteering to jump out of a helicopter over an active warzone, but Bilbo didn’t doubt that he meant it. And he didn’t doubt that Thorin would make a very attentive listener and try incredibly hard to say the right things while at the same time biting his tongue hard enough to draw blood.  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said, turning his face into Thorin’s hand.  
  
The dream had begun with Smaug yelling at him, and they’d been alone together, but then suddenly he’d had a knife pressed to Thorin’s chest, just over his heart. And-   
  
Bilbo shook his head. “Thank you,” he said again. “I- I- not now. Maybe some other time.”  
  
Thorin nodded, expression serious, and gently touched their foreheads together. They sat like that, breathing together until Bilbo’s stomach let out an annoyed rumble.  
  
“Ah, I was in the middle of something,” he said a touch sheepishly. “Fortunately I’d not turned on the stove yet.”  
  
“Perhaps-“ Thorin began, but that was as far as he got before the doorbell rang.  
  
-  
  
“It’s the next day now,” was all Dís said as she swept into the apartment, blonde hair flying behind her.  
  
“It’s not even eight o’clock,” Thorin protested. “We’re not even dressed.”  
  
“I’ll live through the shock of seeing two half-dressed men, one of which is my brother and, _honey_ ,” Dís breathed as Bilbo trotted out of the kitchen. “Let me see what that horrible man did to you.”  
  
“I’m perfectly fine,” Bilbo said, as much for Dís’ as for Thorin’s continued benefit. “I’ve had worse after a fight with my own paperwork. Really. Those reports can be vicious and they’re always out for blood.”  
  
Dís did not appear to be listening and Bilbo sighed but allowed her to inspect both bandages and the tender skin on his left wrist. Being pulled into a tight embrace that just narrowly avoided having his face pressed up between Dís’ breasts was somewhat surprising and Bilbo flailed a little before settling his hands on her back.  
  
“Poor darling,” Dís crooned and petted his hair before pulling back, leaving her hands resting on his shoulders.   
  
Dís couldn’t be that much older than him really, she might even be younger considering the age of her children, but when she brushed a kiss over his forehead Bilbo suddenly missed his mother enough to make his throat feel choked up. “He’s going to prison,” Dís promised. “And he’s never going to hurt you, or anyone else, ever again.”  
  
“Agreed,” Thorin said, coming up to hover beside them, and Dís gave him an amused look.  
  
“Don’t look as if I’m about to steal Bilbo away from you. I can see you wanting to snatch him up.”  
  
Thorin didn’t reply, except to give her a look as void of amusement as humanly possible.  
  
Bilbo cleared his throat, suddenly very aware of how he wasn’t wearing any trousers. “I was just about to make breakfast. If you’d like to join us?”  
  
“Yes, please,” Dís beamed and gave Bilbo’s shoulders a final squeeze before letting go. “Put Thorin on toast duty, and if you’ve got the supplies I make incredible pancakes.”  
  
“I was making omelettes?”  
  
“All parts of a good breakfast,” Dís nodded. “And a pot of strong tea.”  
  
-  
  
It ended up being lucky that Dís insisted that they’d make breakfast for a small army, (and that Bilbo insisted that he and Thorin take the time to get dressed) because they’d not sooner sat down at the table before the doorbell rang again, and Thorin had barely even left the kitchen before he was back, trailed by Nori and Dwalin.  
  
“- _wait_ for someone to open the bloody door.”   
  
“Even when it saves time?” Nori replied, looking up at Dwalin with an innocent expression.  
  
“We need to change our locks,” Thorin sighed as he sat down at the table again, a little closer to Bilbo then before.  
  
“Oh, pancakes,” Nori noted as he pulled out a chair. “Someone please pass a plate?”  
  
“How are you both doing?” Dwalin asked, looking between Thorin and Bilbo.  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Dwalin said, not sounding convinced in the slightest.  
  
“Azog was transferred to Greenwood last night,” Nori told them as he stole Dís fork. “He’s stable, but unconscious and that’s all I know.”  
  
Bilbo suddenly felt a bit less hungry than before, but his stomach still protested at the idea of skipping breakfast so he took a bite out of the toast he’d buttered just before the bell had rang.  
  
“Good,” Dís said. “He’s going to be older than Gandalf if he _ever_ gets out of prison after I’m done with him. And give me back my fork.”  
  
“It’s mine now,” Nori said and licked it.  
  
“What are you, twelve?”  
  
“Dwalin, am I twelve?”  
  
“Don’t drag me into this.”  
  
“Too late,” Dís said and grinned at him. “How interesting that you both showed up at the same time.”  
  
“This was not supposed to be our morning,” Thorin sighed, and Bilbo shuffled a little closer to him.  
  
“I don’t-“ The doorbell rang again.” Mind.”  
  
“I’ll get it,” Dwalin offered as Thorin started getting to his feet. “I’m already standing anyway, sit your arse down, old man.”  
  
“At least I’m not the one fucking someone with the mental age of twelve,” Thorin shot back, but without any real dedication.   
  
“I’m not sure that insult makes much sense,” Dís mused. Nori just shrugged and starting digging into the stack of pancakes he’d loaded up on his plate. Technically Dís’ plate, but Bilbo had passed her his before there’d been another fight over it.  
  
“I’m going to throttle you!” Esme shouted as she came into the kitchen and Bilbo considered hiding beneath the table. “Bilbo, I’ve been trying to call you, I don’t even know how many times. You always answer your phone! How could you just text me to say that everything is fine and I shouldn’t worry!?”  
  
“Because everything was fine and I didn’t want you to worry?” Bilbo offered.  
  
“It didn’t work!”  
  
“Pancakes?” Nori offered. “But you need your own fork.”  
  
“I had to get the whole story from your Bofur-“  
  
“Excuse me?” Thorin protested. “ _His_ Bofur?”   
  
The look Esmeralda gave him was deeply unimpressed. “Oh, this is not the time to be jealous. If you have to know, I know a Bofur too, so yeah, _his_ Bofur, as in not mine. And now shut up so I can finish yelling at _our_ Bilbo.”  
  
“Esme,” Bilbo tried. “I’m sorry, I-“  
  
“No, show a little consideration, you moron!” She stalked around the table and Bilbo untangled himself from Thorin so he could stand up and meet her, and then for the second time that morning Bilbo was pulled into a strong and rather squishy embrace.  
  
“I’m not hurting you am I?” Esme murmured. “Bofur told me that you’d gotten a bit banged up but that it wasn’t serious.”  
  
“No stitches,” Bilbo promised and hugged her back just as tightly. “Two butterfly bandages, just as a precaution.”  
  
“I was so worried.”   
  
Bilbo’s breath huffed out of him as Esme gave him a final squeeze before releasing him. “Sar was too, and you’ll need to beg him before he forgives you enough to feed you again.”  
  
“You’re making that up,” Bilbo protested. Saradoc was just about the nicest person ever, he’d not withhold food.  
  
“You’ll see,” Esme sniffed. She looked around the kitchen. “Wow, you’ve got a lot of people over for this time of day.”  
  
“At least someone admits it,” Thorin muttered.  
  
“Are those pancakes?”  
  
-  
  
After a break to make more food, including a few sausages as Dwalin pointed out a breakfast really needed sausage (something that made Nori snicker uncontrollable) and a move from the kitchen into the living room so everyone could actually have a place to sit that wasn’t a counter, breakfast was enjoyed by all. The interruption having reminded Bilbo that yeah, he’d actually been starving, and when the blond relaxed back into his chair it was with a happy sigh.  
  
“So, is no one actually working today?” he asked, and he got several sated and agreeing murmurs in reply.  
  
“I’m going in later,” Dwalin said and gave a small shrug. “Unlike you fancy doctor and lawyer types I can’t just drop everything on a whim.”  
  
“Hey, this was already my day off,” Esme protested.   
  
“Just ignore him,” Dís said and took a sip of her tea. “He gets paid to glare at people. And to show how buff his arms are.”   
  
“They are _very_ nice,” Nori said and grinned at Dwalin.  
  
Bilbo and Thorin had relocated to the couch, and Bilbo pulled his feet up beneath himself and leaning into the arm Thorin had wrapped around his shoulders.  
  
“I think your sister and my cousin might end up as friends,” Bilbo murmured.  
  
“I know. The gods help us all,” Thorin muttered.  
  
Bilbo nudged him with his elbow. “I think it’ll be a good thing. Esme doesn’t really have many girlfriends.”  
  
“We are not arranging play dates for them.”  
  
“Not even if that means we can steal Saradoc? You’ve not lived until you’ve tasted his cooking. And Merry is a sweetheart. We-“ Bilbo took Thorin’s hand. “We didn’t really finish the talk about children before.”  
  
“And now your plan is to steal your cousin’s. And apparently your cousin’s husband too.”  
  
“Funny,” Bilbo said and snorted and when Thorin grinned down at him he had to reach up and give him a kiss. Even though it was rewarding the wrong kind of behaviour entirely.  
  
“I love you,” Thorin said and it made something relax inside of Bilbo. He wasn’t sure what, because it wasn’t like he’d doubted Thorin's feelings. Thorin had said it again just last night, while they’d made love, but still…  
  
Bilbo moved closer, and now he was a technicality away from sitting in Thorin’s lap. “I love you too.”  
  
“Perhaps we can save our discussion for when we are alone?” Thorin suggested and Bilbo blinked.  
  
“Discussion?”  
  
“Children,” Thorin murmured and tugged lightly on a curl.   
  
“Oh, right,” Bilbo nodded. “Yes, quite.” No, he had not at all been entirely distracted by how beautiful Thorin was when he was smiling. Nope.  
  
“You two are adorable,” Dís remarked, and the two of them turned to look at her only to see that everyone else was already looking at them.  
  
A little flustered Bilbo tried to put some space between himself and Thorin but both Thorin and Dís protested this, albeit in different ways.  
  
“No, no, don’t let me interrupt,” Dís said and waved her hand at them. “Unless you plan on losing the trousers again, because I rather you not.”  
  
“We hadn’t had the time to get dressed yet,” Bilbo explained in response to Nori’s interested look. “That’s a risk when you come over mere hours after sunrise.”  
  
“I know when I’m coming over next time,” Nori mused, not being bothered in the slightest by the dark looks Thorin and Dwalin gave him.  
  
“And when are you leaving?” Thorin muttered.   
  
“Actually I should get going,” Esme said and got up from the dining table. “Sar was taking Merry to the park and I want to spend some time with my baby. Anyone who wants to can come. There will be swings and my husband is _excellent_ when it comes to giving pushes.”  
  
“There’s a double entendre there somewhere,” Nori mused and Dwalin snorted at him.  
  
“Please, spare us.”  
  
“Thank you for the pancakes,” Esme told Dís who smiled at her.  
  
“I’m sure you’re used to better.”  
  
“They were excellent, truly.”  
  
“There’s also-“ Dwalin covered Nori’s mouth with his palm.   
  
“No.”  
  
-  
  
The others didn’t stay for much longer either, but not even half an hour after Dís had left as the last one, Thorin’s phone rang.  
  
“It’s Nori,” Thorin called after having hunted the phone down. “Yeah?” Thorin asked as he picked it up. “What?”  
  
Bilbo poked his head out from the bathroom where he’d been brushing his teeth. “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Hang on.” Thorin pressed a button. “Speaker phone,” he growled. “Repeat what you just said, and for fuck’s sake don’t tell us _how_ you know.”  
  
“It turns out that it wasn't an overdose,” Nori said, his voice slightly tinny as it came out of the speaker. “The tests are back on Azog, well, on the drugs, and it wasn’t an overdose. Not exactly.”  
  
“But I saw him inject himself and then he collapsed?” Bilbo shook his head. “If it wasn’t an overdose…”  
  
“He had the drugs with him. More than was in that syringe. Heroin mixed with something they're still waiting to get the results back for but also with enough strychnine to make that a likely cause of what happened.”  
  
“Rat poison?” Thorin snorted. “How apt.”  
  
Bilbo shushed him. “But how would strychnine end up in his drugs?”  
  
“Beats me.” Nori was quiet for a few seconds. “He almost lost the arm. The strychnine or whatever it is that’s not the strychnine caused a bad swelling and it was touch and go for a while.”  
  
Bilbo’s stomach that had just been so pleased about breakfast turned. He hated Azog, and the man was a horrible surgeon that should never be allowed to even look at a scalpel again, but to lose an arm? That was horrible.  
  
“Also, you two are the docs here, but if the drugs had always had strychnine in them, shouldn’t this have happened long before now?”  
  
“Yes,” Thorin said shortly. “And Bilbo, you said he was already high when he came into your office?”  
  
“Certainly looked like it,” Bilbo said and wrapped his arms around himself.  
  
“I didn’t ask how much of the stuff he had on him,” Nori said. “I can find out.”  
  
“I don’t understand,” Bilbo said.  
  
“He must have just started on a new-“ Thorin frowned. “Bag, or whatever you call it, of heroin. One with strychnine in it.”  
  
“Saruman change supplier?” Nori asked. “Seems risky.”  
  
“It is,” Thorin growled. “If Azog is selling to people in the board then Saruman wouldn’t risk it. Even if…”  
  
“What?” Nori asked. “You think the big S is tired of his dog running loose?”  
  
“Doesn’t matter,” Thorin said. “He’s not stupid enough to risk something like that.”  
  
“Saruman could just have refused to get Azog more drugs?” Bilbo offered. “As a punishment? And whatever he got on the street could have been the contaminated drugs.”  
  
“But Azog is worthless to Saruman unless he has drugs.” Thorin pulled on his hair. “Fuck.”

“Indeed,” Nori agreed with a sigh. “So, I’ll let you know when I hear anything else. Or when Gandalf is back.”  
  
“Thank you,” Bilbo said.   
  
The two of them looked at each other after Thorin had ended the call and when Bilbo opened his arms Thorin stepped into them.   
  
“You and Nori both knew where Azog kept his drugs,” Thorin said slowly, and Bilbo’s arms tightened around Thorin’s waist.   
  
“You don’t mean-“  
  
“Who else knew?”  
  
“No one. I didn’t tell anyone else. So unless Nori told- But Nori wouldn’t do something like what you're thinking.“  
  
“I’ve known Nori longer than you,” Thorin said with a sigh. “And no, he _probably_ wouldn’t. But-“  
  
“But you’re not sure.”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Thorin agreed.   
  
“Oh.” Bilbo’s eyes widened. “But Azog had already collected the drugs we found that time. He must have, the time we were in Nori’s office and Dwalin rang him to say Azog had walked in. He was at the hospital to collect something from his office, remember?”  
  
“Doesn’t have to mean that he used them right away.” Thorin sighed. “All that proves is that he definitely had access to drugs that Nori had access to before him.”  
  
Bilbo pressed his forehead to Thorin’s chest. “I hate this. I don’t think that Nori would try and- poison someone. Not even Azog.”  
  
“It’s-“ Thorin sighed. “It’s not likely, no.”  
  
“But you’re not sure,” Bilbo said again.  
  
“No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! You made it this far.  
> I'm not gonna apologise for not updating sooner, because tbh I don't need to. Fanfic is a hobby, and it's one I love, and I love that other people love it, but sometimes it will be a very slow-going hobby.
> 
> That being said *hugs you all* yaaaay! because I do love this story and I wish updates would magically appear.  
> Thank you so much for all the wonderful comments and appreciation for it.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lots of things happening in this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently the index isn't updating at the moment? I'm not seeing this story at the top of my works, so if it stays that way you shouldn't be surprised to see this posted again tomorrow, maybe it'll work then.  
> Quite honestly it bugs me quite a bit to not have my most recently updated story be my most recently posted story...

Thorin really did not want to consider that it could be Nori who’d mixed rat poison in Azog’s drugs. Not because it was hard to believe that someone would want to kill that horrible excuse for a human being, but because Nori… well, if he had done it he would have done it for Bilbo’s sake. Possibly for Thorin’s sake too.  
  
Because Thorin hadn’t been able to handle it. Hadn’t done _something_ to fix the festering wound that was Azog's presence in their lives.  
  
Consequently if something happened to Nori - if he’d done it and was apprehended, it would be all on Thorin’s shoulders.  
  
It would be his fault.  
  
“Thorin?”  
  
He should have done something earlier. He didn’t know what exactly, but _something_.  
  
“Thorin, darling?”  
  
A light touch on his shoulder made Thorin look up. Bilbo was standing next to the armchair, looking down at him with concern.

“Darling?” Thorin echoed as he realised what Bilbo had just said.  
  
“You don’t like it?” Bilbo squirmed a little. “I don’t need to use it.”

“It’s-“ No lover had ever called him pet names before. “It’s fine. You can call me whatever you wish.”  
  
“But you don’t like it.”

“I don’t dislike it?” Thorin tugged a little on Bilbo’s arm and the smaller man settled on the chair’s armrest. Too far away, and it was easy enough to coax him down to settle on Thorin’s lap.  
  
After wrapping his arms around Bilbo’s waist something inside Thorin relaxed. “I’m just not used to being someone’s ‘darling’.”  
  
“A difficult diagnosis,” Bilbo murmured as he leaned back against Thorin’s chest. “I prescribe a period of being called various endearments, and we’ll meet again to evaluate which suits you best.”  
  
“Is that so?”  
  
“It is so.” There was a moment’s silence. “Am I too heavy?”  
  
“No,” Thorin said immediately, tightening his arms a little.  
  
Bilbo snickered. “Good, because you’re very comfortable. I might be spoiled now for sitting down in chairs that do not include you.”  
  
Under normal circumstances Thorin would have brought up Bilbo’s office chair and made an offer that would have included the chair, both of them, and no trousers, but Bilbo’s office chair was of course in his office. The very same office that Azog could have killed him in. The office in which Bilbo had been trapped behind his own desk, where Azog had _hurt_ him.  
  
Unsurprisingly any notions Thorin had entertained about Bilbo’s office furniture now left a sour taste in his mouth.  
  
“Thorin?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“You’re somewhere else entirely aren’t you?”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Thorin said, pressing a kiss to the side of Bilbo’s jaw. “What were you saying?”  
  
“We never finished our talk before, about children. But perhaps we should save it for another day.”  
  
“I-“  
  
“No, it’s perfectly all right,” Bilbo said, turning to smile at him. “Just don’t stop taking your pills quite yet.”  
  
“Funny.”  
  
“I like to think so, yes.”  
  
The angle was a little awkward for kissing, but Thorin thought they managed quite well.  
  
“It’s early in the day still,” Bilbo murmured between kisses. “We could do something.”  
  
“Mmm?” Thorin said, beginning to have some ideas of what they could in fact do. If Bilbo still wanted to get fucked they could-  
  
“We could go to the aquarium.”

Thorin blinked. “The aquarium?”  
  
“Been a while since we went on a date.”  
  
“We’re living together now.” Thorin frowned. “I didn’t know we still needed to date.”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “For someone so sweet you do have your moments when I wonder if you know what romance is.”  
  
“Looking at fish is romantic?”  
  
“It is if you do it while holding hands,” Bilbo smiled. “And we could go to lunch afterwards.”  
  
“All right,” Thorin said, and it wasn't as if it was a big sacrifice to make. If they left now they’d be there in time to see the seals get fed. Going to the aquarium with Fíli and Kíli had made Thorin realise that he quite liked seals, there was something oddly endearing about them.

As they were getting ready to leave Thorin’s phone rang.  
  
“It’s Nori again,” Thorin said, getting the phone out of his pocket, pressing his thumb on the accept call button. “Nori, we’re-“  
  
“Azog is dead. He's been murdered.”  
  
-

“You said it yourself, he can’t testify against Saruman if he’s dead.”  
  
Thorin was becoming awfully familiar with the sound of Nori’s voice through his phone’s speaker. And entirely too familiar with Bilbo looking tense and much too pale.  
  
“So you think Saruman did it.”  
  
“Not with his own two hands,” Nori said, and Thorin could almost see the shrug. “He’s not that stupid. But yeah, I’d not be surprised if he was involved somehow. We all know Saruman had gotten tired of Azog not listening to him.” Nori was silent for a moment. “Anyway, I just wanted to give you the head’s up. I’m guessing the cops are going to want to ask you where you were and all that. Seemed like they’ve got someone suspicious looking on the Greenwood security cams.”  
  
“Do you-“ Bilbo hesitated. “Do you know what actually happened. How he-“  
  
“Not sure if I should tell you, might be best if you don’t know if the cops ask you. And you should probably act surprised about him being dead.”  
  
“We’re not going to lie to the police, Nori,” Thorin said and rubbed at the bridge of his nose.  
  
“It’s not lying as much as… withholding some information. You’d not tell a patient that they have cancer unless you were entirely sure.”  
  
“We’d not tell a patient that they had cancer at all as we’re not oncologists,” Thorin growled.  
  
“Details.”  
  
Thorin took a deep breath. “Bilbo, could I speak to Nori alone for a moment?”  
  
“Um, sure?”  
  
“Thank you,” Thorin said, squeezing Bilbo’s hand before taking the phone and walking into the bedroom, closing the door behind him.  
  
“Am I in for a scolding?” Nori asked, and Thorin pressed the button to switch off the speakerphone function, lifting the phone to his ear.  
  
“Nori, I’ll only ask this once. And whatever your answer is, I’ll not do something without your consent.”  
  
“I’ll change the scolding part of my question to a spanking.”  
  
“Nori,” Thorin growled. “I’m serious.”  
  
“Fine, ask away.”  
  
“Did you have anything to do with Azog’s death. Or the contamination of his drugs?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.  
  
“I won’t turn you in if you did something,” Thorin continued. “But I need you to tell me.”  
  
“That's... good to know,” Nori finally said. “But no, I was with Dwalin the whole evening yesterday, and we spent the night together. And you know where we were this morning.”  
  
“That only tells me where you were,” Thorin pointed out. “Not what you might have _done_ , or asked someone to do. And if someone had messed with his drugs it would have happened much earlier.”

“I’m not sure if I should be offended or flattered that you’re considering that I might be a criminal mastermind.”  
  
“Nori…”

“I’ll not use the word ‘innocent’ to describe myself, but in this particular case I’ve not done anything. Bilbo and I found some of his drugs before, I’ve not seen them after that. And I’ve not killed him, nor done anything that would prompt someone to kill him. As far as I know anyway.”  
  
“I believe you.”  
  
Nori snorted. “Again, good to know.”  
  
“I’m not going to apologise,” Thorin said, sitting down on the bed with a sigh.  
  
“Not expecting you to. The way I figure it, if you’ve not thought about killing Azog at least once you’re either a saint or crazy. I’m neither, so I’m not offended." Nori made a noise between a snicker and a sigh. "I wouldn’t tell Dwalin about this though. He’s got some strange notion that I need to be protected. He’d likely get pissy with you.”  
  
Nori’s voice was fond, and Thorin’s lips quirked. “I’m used to Dwalin being upset with me.”  
  
“Suit yourself then.”  
  
They ended the phone call not long after that, but when Thorin walked out into the living room again Bilbo was talking on his phone, holding up a finger to his mouth when he saw Thorin.  
  
“Yes of course, officer,” he said, moving his hand up to card through messy curls. “We’ll both be there as soon as possible.”  
  
Brilliant.  
  
-  
  
The interrogation, or questioning as the police called it, gave Thorin the impression that he’d not be put on trial for murder anytime soon. They were polite, and their questions seemed to be routine.  
  
They did ask him a few questions that seemed to be connected to what Bilbo must have told them before about their… investigation of Azog, but all in all it didn’t take that long.  
  
Thorin’s troubles didn’t start until he walked out into the lobby and saw a cowed Bilbo standing next to Dís.  
  
“You are a moron,” his sister hissed once he got close enough. “Why didn’t you phone me and ask me to come. I wouldn’t have known about it at all if I hadn’t talked to Nori and put two and two together when neither of you didn’t answer your phones.”  
  
“Are you all right?” Thorin asked Bilbo, ignoring Dís for the time being. “You look a little pale.”  
  
“I’m fine,” Bilbo promised, but he didn’t protest when Thorin wrapped his arm around his shoulders.

“You will _call_ me,” Dís said, poking Thorin hard in the chest to catch his attention. “There’s a hospital full of people who’ll swear on a stack of bibles how much you hated Azog. And that was _before_ he tried to kill Bilbo. I’m sorry, honey,” she added and patted Bilbo on the arm. “I don’t mean to bring it up. But I’m not going to let anyone put my brother in prison.”

“They called Bilbo and _asked_ us to come to the station,” Thorin argued. “If they thought that either of us had done something they’d not wait for us to come here on our own.”

“You can be really stupid sometimes,” Dís sighed. “As I assume you’re both free to go, let’s do just that. But the next time you will bloody well call me. I can’t stop either of you from saying stupid things if I’m not around to hear them.”  
  
“I’d like to point out that we have in fact not done anything,” Bilbo said.  
  
“Honey, if that was all that mattered my job would be a lot easier.”  
  
-  
  
Neither Bilbo nor Thorin felt like going to the aquarium, so instead they went back to Thorin’s flat, curling up together on the couch.  
  
“I can’t believe he’s actually dead,” Bilbo said into Thorin’s chest. “He’s not going to be hurting more people now. Only I’m half expecting him to come back , like some villain in a horror film.”  
  
“Would you- I’m sure we could-“  
  
“Go and look at him?” Bilbo shivered. “I don’t know. I’ll.. think about it.” The blond snorted. “I’m relieved? That I’ll never need to see him again. And I feel guilty about it. Going to gawk at him like something out of a freak show… that would be-”  
  
“Dead people can’t hold opinions,” Thorin said. “It could be good for closure. Maybe.”  
  
“I don’t want to see him,” Bilbo murmured.  
  
“Then we won’t.”  
  
“What if I should?”  
  
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”  
  
Instead of replying Bilbo managed to press himself a little closer to Thorin still.  
  
“Would you like to watch a movie?” Thorin asked, pressing his lips to the crown of Bilbo’s head.  
  
“Only truly bad films are on this time of day.”  
  
“I do own a few things we could watch.”  
  
“You don’t have any movies.”

“I have movies.”  
  
“You only just bought a television.”  
  
“And I've bought movies too.”  
  
“You have?”  
  
“Indeed.” Admittedly Thorin wasn’t entirely sure what movies he had bought. He’d just asked the young lady in the store to gather ten popular films for him, hoping that they all wouldn’t be bad.  
  
And of course Bilbo’s next question was:  
  
“What films do you have then?”  
  
“ _Films_ ,” Thorin said, dragging out the word to try and make it sound like a full answer.  
  
“Ah,” Bilbo said, snickering slightly. “Sure, we could watch something. But I really think I should bring my television here. We’ll both need glasses if we’ll continue to squint at the tiny screen you have.”  
  
“If you’d like,” Thorin said, aiming for casual when he in reality wanted Bilbo to bring anything he wanted or needed and then get rid of his own apartment. They’d not talked about making their temporary situation more permanent, not really, but Thorin hadn’t changed his mind. He wanted Bilbo with him, for as long as Bilbo wanted to be with him. “I have room.”  
  
“You have several rooms,” Bilbo agreed, stretching his neck up to press a kiss to Thorin’s nose. “Have I told you how I love your nose?”  
  
“My nose?”  
  
“It’s a lovely nose.”  
  
“It’s a nose.”  
  
“You don’t like my nose?”  
  
“I-“ Thorin huffed when Bilbo started to snicker. “You’re making fun of me.”  
  
“Only a little. But I’m entirely serious about your nose. It’s an unfairly attractive nose. But I suppose that’s a given considering the rest of you.”  
  
Thorin couldn’t think of anything to say. It seemed rude to protest. He wanted to kiss Bilbo, wanted to get him out of his clothes and make sure again that he was entirely all right, but he didn’t know if it was appropriate considering what they'd been talking about before the subject had turned to films and then his nose.  
  
“I just wanted you to know,” Bilbo said, more quietly. “How you’re the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. And wonderful and sweet and kind, and I love you very much. And even though my life has been a little… strange, ever since I started working at Erebor, I don’t regret accepting Gandalf’s offer. Because if I hadn’t I wouldn’t have met you.”  
  
Bilbo was warm and soft in Thorin’s arms, a perfect fit, and Thorin never wanted to let him go even though he knew that was an entirely irrational thought.  
  
“I want to protect you,” Thorin admitted. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. If I could change things-“  
  
“If you could I hope you’d go back in time and tell me not to be so nervous when we first met. I was convinced you’d never speak to me again after that first time.”

Thorin snorted. “As it’s quite obvious that I did speak to you again, don’t you think there are more important things I could change?”  
  
“How about we save this conversation until someone invents the time machine?”  
  
“I-“  
  
Both of them froze as Thorin’s phone rang, buzzing against the top of the small table standing in front of the couch.  
  
“I’m beginning to _really_ dislike phones,” Bilbo murmured as they untangled themselves. “That sound has become a bad omen.”  
  
“Maybe it’s good news this time?” But Thorin didn’t even sound convincing to his own ears.  
  
This time it wasn't Nori, nor Dís having find something else to scold them for, but Dwalin. Dwalin who should be working.  
  
As Thorin answered the call he pressed the option for speakerphone right away.  
  
“Dwalin?”  
  
A heavy sigh escaped from the phone’s small speaker. “This is turning out to be some week.”  
  
“What’s happened?” Bilbo asked, putting his hand on Thorin’s arm.  
  
“Gandalf’s in the hospital. As in, hospitalised,” Dwalin said, sounding tired and angry all at once. “He was attacked just outside Erebor, after he'd been dropped off by the cab from the airport. Two of my guys found him.”  
  
“Is he- badly hurt?” Bilbo asked, his eyes big and round as he met Thorin’s gaze.  
  
“He’s unconscious now. Broken leg, broken ribs. Bruises.” Dwalin sighed again. “They’ll think he’ll be fine though. Apparently he was awake for a bit, so they don’t think there’s any brain damage. But... yeah.”  
  
“The world has gone entirely mad,” Bilbo said faintly before sinking back down on the couch.  
  
“The one who did it?” Thorin asked, fist clenched tightly at his side.  
  
“Gone,” Dwalin growled.  
  
“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Thorin said before disconnecting the call, cutting off any protests Dwalin might have been about to make.  
  
“Who’d want to hurt Gandalf?” Bilbo murmured, looking up at Thorin.  
  
“I can name at least one person who’d benefit from not having to deal with him,” Thorin said darkly as he gently pulled Bilbo back on his feet. “Come on, get your coat. We’ll phone Dís from the car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hugs anyone still reading this*
> 
> (Anyone who thinks my seal reference is odd should read: Keep Your Feet, by diemarysues  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1697855 )


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooooo!

Bilbo had pretty much come to believe that Gandalf was immortal or magical or something to that effect. He’d always been there, Bilbo had known him all his life, couldn’t even remember _not_ knowing him.

And despite not being able to remember Gandalf without the grey hair (Gandalf simply wouldn’t be Gandalf without grey hair) he’d been pretty convinced that Gandalf would end up outliving him.

There was just something about him that was somehow… everlasting. It was not possible to imagine him lying pale and still in a hospital bed, or… it _hadn’t_ been possible.  
  
Now… now Bilbo’s mind refused to show anything but such images. No, that wasn’t true. There were others too, of Gandalf lying bloody and lifeless outside the hospital. Of someone beating him, leaving him.  
  
Dwalin hadn’t told them too much, but what he _hadn’t_ said spoke almost as loudly. As was the fact that they weren’t allowed to go inside his room. If Gandalf really had been fine they’d have been allowed, Bilbo was sure of it. And he was a doctor so he knew how things like this worked.

"You need to let us see him."  
  
"I'm sorry Doctor Oakenshield, Doctor Greyhame is not supposed to have visitors." The nurse gave them both sincerely apologetic looks, and Bilbo wished he could remember her name. Everything was a little fuzzy around the edges and names were no different. "Doctor's orders."  
  
Putting his hand on Thorin’s arm Bilbo nodded at her. “Thank you.”

“ _We_ are _doctors_ -“ Thorin began, as if the nurse wouldn’t know, his eyebrows furrowed and a scowl on his face.

“I- I need to sit down,” Bilbo said, and that was another sort of magic, watching the dark look melt away from Thorin’s face and instantly be replaced by concern.   
  
It made Bilbo wish he’d _not_ been telling the truth, because he had to look away from Thorin’s eyes when the room started to wobble. The next thing he knew was a sturdy arm wrapping around his waist, helping the room coming into focus again.  
  
“I’m fine,” Bilbo promised when Thorin more or less carried him to the closest chair, the nurse – and what _was_ her name? - following. The sound Thorin made at Bilbo’s reassurance was deeply sceptical and after making sure Bilbo was properly settled he crouched down in front of him.

“You’re paler than my damned paperwork,” Thorin growled. “Get him some water.” The last was barked at the nurse, and Bilbo snorted, his hands curling around the armrests of the chair.

“Please. Excuse him.”

“Quiet you.” Thorin’s tone was still rough, but the hands gently squeezing Bilbo’s were anything but. They were also checking his pulse he realised, one forefinger sneaking between Bilbo’s wrist and the chair, and the thought made the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. “Are you dizzy?” One of Thorin’s hands moved up to cup the back of Bilbo’s neck. “Do you need to lie down?”

“I just got a little… lightheaded for a moment,” Bilbo said, eyes flicking towards the closed door to Gandalf’s room. “I’m fine. It’s just been… an interesting day so far. And yesterday…”

Thorin’s eyes darkened again.  
  
“Here,” the nurse said, holding out a small plastic bottle of water for Bilbo, and he _finally_ remembered her name.   
  
“Thank you, Lily,” he said, smiling up at her.  
  
“You’re welcome,” she replied, smiling back. “I need to get back to work, I trust that Doctor Oakenshield will keep an eye on you.”  
  
It was not a question, but Thorin didn’t protest the implied order. Nor had Bilbo expected him to, the big silly.  
  
“Do you want to go back home?” Thorin asked after Lily had left.

Bilbo shook his head, relieved when that didn’t make the room spin. “I’m-“

“If you say you’re fine one more time I’ll get Dwalin and make him sit on you.”

“How is that going to help anything?” Bilbo twisted open the cap of the bottle and took a small mouthful.  
  
“I have no idea,” Thorin admitted, taking Bilbo’s free hand into his own. His hands were very warm. Or was it Bilbo’s that were cold?

“Who would want to hurt Gandalf?” Bilbo asked quietly. “I know who you think it was,” he added when Thorin opened his mouth. “But I don’t think that makes sense. It’s so… crude.” Would Saruman really send someone to beat him up? And right in front of the hospital?

“No cruder than mixing poison into drugs,” Thorin muttered, not loud enough for it to carry.

“Azog was being followed by someone,” Bilbo said, turning his hand so he could slide his fingers between Thorin’s. “We need to find out who, because what if it _wasn’t_ Saruman? Who would want to stalk Azog and then kill him and then attack Gandalf?”  
  
“You're assuming it's the same person.”  
  
“A rather big coincidence if it isn’t.” Bilbo bit his bottom lip. “When Azog spoke to Saruman before it didn’t seem as if it was him who had sent someone to follow Azog.”  
  
“You have a point,” Thorin said slowly. “That said I still think it was him. He’s the one who benefits from it.” A group of people rounded the corner and continued down the hallway and Thorin glanced at them before lowering his voice further. “Everything that’s _happened_ lately.”  
  
“True,” Bilbo said and sighed. “But I don’t think he’d want to involve the hospital. This is going to make headlines tomorrow. Headlines involving Erebor.”  
  
Thorin made a small humming sound, and after that they say together in silence for a while. Or in the sort of not very quiet silence that was the only kind possible to have in a hospital in the middle of the afternoon.

“He’ll be fine,” Thorin said eventually. “Not letting us see him is just a precaution. You know how it is.”  
  
“I know,” Bilbo said and leaned his head back against the wall, trying to make himself believe that it really was just a precaution. Or to make sure Gandalf got the rest he needed. “He’s family though.”  
  
Thorin didn’t reply, but he brushed his thumb over Bilbo’s knuckles, soft as a feather.   
  
-  
  
Others had come and gone, but Dwalin, Nori and Bofur had joined them in the base camp that had formed in the waiting room closest to Gandalf’s room and declared that they weren’t leaving until there were news.   
  
Nori was the last of the three to settle down. He’d come with Dwalin but stopped to try and flirt his way into some updated information about Gandalf, perhaps also into his room, but the nurses at the reception had not been impressed, and all his smirking and winking had accomplished was Dwalin’s jaw tightening until Bilbo was afraid he’d accidentally snap something.

Dwalin didn’t say anything though, even smiling at Nori when he slumped down beside him and Bilbo was the only one who heard Dwalin’s chair breathe a sigh of relief when his large hands released the arm rests. Bilbo made a mental note to have a talk with Nori and have him put Dwalin out of his misery, one way or another. Bilbo winced.

He’d only meant that Nori should decide if he was interesting in something more than casual but his stupid brain had interpreted that a little differently. There’d been entirely too much violence and death lately if his mind decided to suggest that Nori would actually do away with Dwalin.

“We need to wait for Trinn to come and do the rounds,” Nori informed them. “She’ll decide if Gandalf can have visitors.”  
  
“He’s not woken up again,” Bilbo said softly, glancing at the door. “At least I don’t think he has.”  
  
“He was awake before,” Dwalin said firmly. “Conscious. He’ll be _fine_.”  
  
“You can’t make him sit on himself,” Bilbo told Thorin. Everyone gave him a weird look, even Thorin, and Bilbo sniffed. “Before, Thorin said- never mind.”  
  
-  
  
They waited. And waited. Bilbo hadn’t really realised it before, but there were bits of him that really were beginning to protest Azog’s treatment of them. The line over his stomach where the table had been pushed against him ached, and so did one of his shoulders. However there wasn’t really any point in focusing on something like that at the moment. Compared to Gandalf… Bilbo swallowed. Since he wasn’t the one in a hospital bed he’d gotten off easy.  
  
Quick steps down the corridor made all of them straighten up, but it wasn’t Trinn who showed up around the corner, no it was none other than Saruman.

Since he’d been leaning against Thorin’s side Bilbo felt him stiffen, seeing Dwalin’s shoulders undergo a similar transformation.

“None of you are supposed to be working I hope,” was the first thing Saruman said, looking at Bilbo and Thorin with disapproval.   
  
“Bilbo was almost killed yesterday,” Bofur said, getting to his feet and glaring up at Saruman, his chest puffing like a bird in springtime. “That he’s here at all-“  
  
“Yes, yes,” Saruman interrupted. “I’ve not forgotten.”  
  
“Nor have I,” Thorin said darkly. “And if I find out that you had anything to do with it, or with the state Gandalf’s in-“

“I thought we had moved beyond such talk,” Saruman said quietly, almost sounding hurt, and Thorin _growled_.  
  
“Mark my words-”

“If you won’t take my word for it,” Saruman said. “Trust that I would not do anything that would hurt the hospital’s reputation. What happened yesterday and what has happened today is not good publicity.”

“ _Publicity_?” Dwalin’s brow was furrowed and his hands made fists where they rested on the chair. “Your publicity can go fuck itself.”

Saruman sniffed. “I thank you not to use such language. It’s not very professional is it.”  
  
Dwalin bared his teeth. “Lucky I’m off the clock then, isn’t it?”  
  
“Why are you here?” Bilbo asked, meeting Saruman’s dark eyes.  
  
“Gandalf is an old friend-“  
  
“And it would be bad publicity if you didn’t come to see him, right?” Nori asked, eyebrow quirked mockingly. When Saruman gave him a disapproving glare the redhead smirked. “No, you can’t have me fired. The board of directors have no saying regarding my contract.”  
  
“We’re not allowed to see Gandalf anyway,” Bofur tacked on. “So you might as well go.”

He’d no sooner finished speaking before the call signal for Gandalf’s room buzzed.  
  
“He’s awake,” Bilbo breathed. And well enough to push a button. Which, a small victory it might be but a victory nevertheless.   
  
-  
  
It took some wheedling, potentially some bribing (Bilbo wasn’t exactly sure what Nori had told Trinn when she came to check up on Gandalf) but finally she agreed to let one of them see him.  
  
“Go on then,” Thorin said, gently nudging Bilbo towards the room.  
  
“Are you sure?” Bilbo asked, even as he took a step towards the door. “I could-“  
  
“Tell him we said hi,” Bofur smiled.   
  
The room was dimly lit, making Bilbo suspect that Gandalf had a concussion on top of everything else.  
  
Gandalf’s eyes were closed, and he was pale except for a bright red and blue bruise on his cheek. “Gandalf?”  
  
“Bilbo,” Gandalf sighed, eyes opening slowly. “How are you, my boy?”  
  
“How _I_ am?” Bilbo had to resist the urge to poke him, hard. Instead he sank down on the chair standing next to the bed and reached out to cover one of Gandalf’s hands with his own. “We need to have a talk about your priorities, old man.”  
  
Gandalf chuckled, shallowly and that would probably be due to the broken ribs, and again the urge to poke him was close to overwhelming. “I’m sorry if I’ve worried you.”

“Not your fault,” Bilbo sighed. “I’m only allowed to stay a little while.” A stray thought occurred to him and he frowned. “I suspect the police will want to speak with you. Strange that they’re not here already.”  
  
“I would think Saruman has something to do with that.” Gandalf sighed. “I thought I heard his voice before?”  
  
“Nori annoyed him until he went away,” Bilbo said, the corner of his mouth twitching up, but the smile was fleeting and disappeared as quickly as it’d come. “Gandalf, what _happened_?”  
  
“The details are a bit blurry,” Gandalf said, for once looking as old as he probably was. “I’d gotten out of the taxi and I was walking towards he main entrance." His hand twitched beneath Bilbo's. "I didn’t see anyone, but from one moment to the next I was on my front in one of the flowerbeds and well-“ He gestured up at his face, but Bilbo knew better than to believe that was the extend of his injuries.  
  
“How on earth did no one see that happen?” Bilbo asked. “It’s not like you arrived in the middle of the night.”  
  
“Someone did come along,” Gandalf said. “But I’m not sure how long it took.”

All Bilbo’s worry was quickly being replaced with anger. Attacking Gandalf... how low could a person sink? “And you don’t know who it was? You didn’t see them?”  
  
“Not much.” Gandalf closed his eyes. “He had dark hair. Wore denims. And… he asked me how I could allow it.”

Bilbo blinked. “Allow what?”  
  
Gandalf shook his head. “That, my dear Bilbo, I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [I can’t remember if I’ve mentioned Gandalf’s last name before and I can’t be bothered to looook. If you know please tell me, lol]


	17. Chapter 17

They took a taxi home, after Bilbo had finished looking pleadingly at everyone working in the ICU, going as far as poking his head into the on call room to find them all, and after he’d bent every last one to his will with big, sad hazel eyes, he made them promise to call if Gandalf’s status changed. _Then_ , and only then, Bilbo had agreed to leave.  
  
It was impressive really, Bilbo’s ability to convince people to do his bidding. Thorin supposed that he had to have been unstoppable as a child, having that extra edge of additional cuteness and innocence.

“Thorin?”

His parents had probably been chanceless. Was that why Bilbo had been an only child? His parents realising that with two like him they’d be entirely doomed.  
  
Thorin was so caught up in the images of what a baby Bilbo might have looked like, and what a baby that was _part_ Bilbo might look like, that Bilbo had to nudge him to catch his attention.  
  
“The car’s stopped,” Bilbo said, moving his hand from Thorin’s arm to instead lace their fingers together. “And that means that we should get out before the nice driver thinks that we’re moving in.”

“I want to have children with you,” Thorin confessed, squeezing Bilbo’s hand to try and convey how very much he wanted this.  
  
“And apparently we’re family planning already.” Bilbo glanced at the driver who; to her credit, just looked amused. “We’re not actually moving into your car.”  
  
“I’ve got a baby seat in the boot,” she offered, turning to smile at them.

The unfamiliar voice brought Thorin all the way back from the pleasing world he’d created before his mind’s eye, full of babies with sunny grins and curly hair.

“Oh,” Thorin said, feeling his ears burn. He fumbled for his wallet but Bilbo tugged on his hand and shook his head.  
  
“I’ve paid already.”  
  
“Unless you wanted that baby seat?” The driver winked at him in the rear view mirror.  
  
-  
  
“So, we’ve agreed on adoption then?”  
  
Thorin nodded, adding a verbal agreement when he realised that Bilbo wouldn’t be able to tell for sure what he was doing.  
  
Once again they’d gone to bed despite it probably being too early for two grown men to do so.  
  
This time Thorin wasn’t feeling particularly sleepy, and he was thankful for that. Not only had their talk about children been interrupted an inane amount of times already; him falling asleep in the middle of the last attempt would just have adding insult to injury. There was also the fact that being allowed to hold Bilbo in his arms had quickly become one of Thorin’s favourite past times, one he was sure he’d never tire of.  
  
“Do you think there’s someone for us?” Bilbo tone was wistful, and Thorin pressed a kiss to the back of Bilbo’s head, gently nudging his nose into the curls to find Bilbo’s scent beneath the lingering smell of hospital.  
  
“Any child would be lucky to have you as a parent.”

Bilbo bumped him with one foot. “Don’t tell that to the adoption people, it sounds-“  
  
“As if you are an amazing person?”  
  
“As if I’m full of myself. Well, or as if you’re full of me I guess.”  
  
“I could be?” Thorin suggested, letting his hand slide down from Bilbo’s sternum to the softness of his belly, stopping at the edge of his boxers.  
  
It took Bilbo a moment, and then he was squirming around to face Thorin. “You want to-?”  
  
Thorin smiled and lifted his hand to ghost his fingers down Bilbo’s bare arm, stroking along the soft, almost invisible hairs covering it. “If you want to?”

He hadn’t really expected Bilbo to all but throw himself across the small distance still separating them, nor the intensity of the kiss he suddenly found himself in.  
  
That’s not to say that he minded, quite the contrary.

They were both in their pants and nothing else, so undressing the final bit was easy enough, even if it required some wriggling and squirming as separating enough to actually do it the easy way seemed like a very poor idea.

Thorin cursed as they were forced to separate a short while later anyway, when both of them fumbling beneath pillow and on bed tables hadn’t yielded any sort of lubrication.

Having Bilbo move outside arm’s reach was close to unbearable, and Thorin wasn’t even sure if he’d as much as breathed until he had the familiar sturdy, small and beloved form of his lover curling close once more.  
  
Bilbo kissed his way down Thorin’s torso, making short stops to say hello to his nipples and also to worry his teeth along Thorin’s right hip before nudging Thorin’s legs wider apart and up. Thorin happily obeyed the non-verbal instruction as well as-  
  
“Pillow,” Bilbo demanded, and Thorin’s lips quirked upwards at the imperious tone but he wasn’t foolish enough to contest such a clever plan and obliging raised his hips to allow Bilbo to slide the pillow beneath him.

“You’re not going to come,” Bilbo said as he traced Thorin’s opening with a slick fingers. “I’m going to take you, and you’re going to fuck me afterwards.”  
  
Thorin twitched, hips lifting and Bilbo flattened his free hand against Thorin’s stomach, pushing him back down against the mattress.

“I’m not sure I can-“ Thorin began, voice disappearing when Bilbo scratched blunt nails down Thorin’s skin, wrapping much too clever fingers around the base of his erection, holding him tightly.  
  
“You can,” Bilbo told him. “Or if you really can’t I’ll allow a nap before we try again.”  
  
“Very generous of you,” Thorin groaned, rocking down when Bilbo pushed inside of him with two fingers at once, the stretch unfortunately not enough to dampen Thorin’s arousal, quite the opposite. “Allowing naps.”  
  
“Well, you’re quite a bit _older_ than me so-“  
  
Thorin’s eyes widened in outrage, then they rolled back into his head as Bilbo found his prostate and took what was frankly unfair advantage.

“I. Am not. Old,” Thorin managed eventually, doing his best to not go cross eyed as he aimed a glare at his giggling lover.

“Of course not, darling. The grey is very distinguished.”  
  
Thorin had a good answer, he really had, but it disappeared when Bilbo bent his head to lick a stripe up his cock.  
  
-  
  
As the slick head of Bilbo’s cock pushed inside him Thorin did not feel anything remotely like old. If anything he felt all of 16, about to come embarrassingly fast.

“You better be quick or you’ll not get fucked.”

“Not a problem,” Bilbo said breathlessly as he began to move.

He thrust into Thorin with quick desperate rolls of his hips, clinging to Thorin’s shoulders, his arms, petting along his stomach and everywhere else he could reach.  
  
Thorin let his head fall back against the pillow, trying to concentrate on the feeling of the sheet beneath his fingers, on breathing, on anything except how bloody good it felt to have Bilbo inside him, on him, touching him.  
  
True to his word it wasn’t long before Bilbo came, a strangled cry of Thorin’s name on his lips, and he was so very close to pulling Thorin right over the edge along with him with the last stuttering thrusts, but Thorin gritted his teeth and breathed as slowly and deeply as he could, one hand wrapped tightly around the base of his cock to try and hold off his own climax.  
  
When Bilbo more or less collapsed on top of him Thorin did try his best to give him a minute, but didn’t last more than half of that time before he ended up gently tipping him to the side.  
  
Both of them hissed when Bilbo’s cock slid out of Thorin and Bilbo followed it up with a moan and rolled over on his back, spreading his legs.

“That was lovely. Please fuck me.”  
  
“What ever happened to the afterglow,” Thorin rumbled as he reached for the lube, fumbling and almost dropping the small tube when he felt some of Bilbo’s come run down the back of his thigh.

Giggling Bilbo pulled his knees up and smiled at him. “Oh it’ll get here.”  
  
He was flushed, sweaty, with curls pretending that they’d never even heard of gravity, a his cock beginning to soften against his belly, and he was so gorgeous Thorin had to close his eyes and just breathe for a moment.

-  
  
Bilbo was still a little too tight as Thorin pressed inside and the small flinch did quite a bit to cool Thorin’s ardour, tugging him well back from the edge. But when he made to pull out again Bilbo protested and dug his heels into the small of Thorin’s back.  
  
“It’s fine. It was just- it’s good.”

“I’m not going to hurt you.” He knew he shouldn’t have listened to Bilbo’s assurance of being oh so relaxed from coming once already.

“You’re not. It didn’t hurt. It was just- It’s fine.”

“Bilbo, I _won’t_ hurt you.”

“You won’t.” Small but strong hands cupped Thorin’s face and Bilbo’s thumbs brushed along his cheeks. “I promise. I’m very relaxed.”

However not relaxed enough that it stopped him from clinging like a baby koala when Thorin _did_ pull out to add more slick to both of them.  
  
"I don't like this any more than you do," Thorin said when Bilbo whined and rocked back against his fingers, Bilbo's own hands tugging at Thorin to get him to come closer again. He only realised what that must have sounded like when Bilbo erupted into a fit of giggling.  
  
Thorin just huffed and wiped the rest of the lube on his cock, and with one hand curled around Bilbo’s hip Thorin pushed against him, sinking inside at a pace slow enough to make him hold back curse after curse, as well as the desire to just shove himself inside. And it didn’t bloody well help that Bilbo was urging him to do just that.

“I love you,” Thorin groaned as he was all the way inside, lowering his head to blindly press a kiss to Bilbo’s warm skin.

“Talk to me about oxytocin,” Bilbo whispered, a new round of giggling turning into a moan as Thorin began to move.

-  
  
Afterwards they curled up as before, only more naked, more sticky, and a lot closer to sleep.  
  
“Everything will be all right,” Thorin promised when Bilbo sighed and turned to bury his face against Thorin’s chest.  
  
Bilbo’s voice was muffled. “You can’t know that.”  
  
“I can.” Thorin brushed the curls back from Bilbo’s forehead. “My considerable _age_ gives me wisdom.”  
  
Bilbo made a hiccupping snort and burrowed a little closer still, hands coming up to play with the hair on Thorin’s chest.  
  
“I love you.”  
  
“I love you too.”

-

The next morning Gandalf was transferred to orthopaedics so his broken leg and ribs could get proper attention, and they went to visit him, having decided to not tell him everything about Azog and Saruman just yet. Something which turned out to be just as well as Gandalf had been given some fairly heavy painkillers when they’d been forced to reset his leg.  
  
Thorin had never seen Gandalf drunk, but he could imagine that the result would be fairly similar to Gandalf being high on painkillers. The old man was happy and talkative, however with a very short attention span.  
  
“- and bees are very important, without bees- Bilbo, is that a hickey I see?”

Bilbo’s eyes widened and he put both hands around his throat, making it look like he intended to strangle himself.  
  
“No, no,” Gandalf scoffed. “Not on you, on _Thorin’s_ neck. No, don’t try and look innocent, Thorin is much too old to have tried to give himself one with the hoover.”  
  
Thorin who had just barely restrained himself from a futile attempt of trying to look down at his own neck, frowned.  
  
“I’m not-“ he clamped his mouth shut as he realised that he was pretty much about to argue that he wasn’t at all too old to use a vacuum cleaner in that manner.

Bilbo, his cheeks flushed bright red, cleared his throat. “You were talking about bees?” he suggested, a bit of desperation leaking through into his voice.  
  
“Oh yes.” Gandalf’s eyes brightened. “Did you know that the average worker bee produces less than a tenth of teaspoon of honey in her lifetime?”

-

They went to the aquarium afterwards, just in time to see the seals being fed, and then to dinner before going back home and making love again.  
  
Just as he was about to fall asleep Thorin found himself thinking that it had been a lovely day, and then he felt a little like banging his head against the wall. There was still the matter of Gandalf having been attacked by someone, and the entire thing with Saruman, and had his standards really been lowered so much so that a day without anyone he cared for being harmed counted as a good day?  
  
A small breathy sigh drew Thorin’s attention to Bilbo, but he was still asleep, pale eyelashes fanned out against his cheeks.  
  
Then again, any day that ended with Bilbo in his arms, that was a pretty good day.

-  
  
The next day began with Nori inviting himself for breakfast, looking a mix between smug, antsy and apprehensive as Thorin opened the door.  
  
“I’m surprised you didn’t let yourself in this time,” Thorin said as he waved at Nori to come in.  
  
“I got the impression that you didn’t like it,” Nori said, winking at him. “Are there pancakes?”  
  
“Who- oh, hello Nori,” Bilbo said, poking his head out from the kitchen.  
  
“Pancakes?” Nori said hopefully and Bilbo snorted.  
  
“Not unless you make them. But there’re eggs and toast.”  
  
“I’m not going to say no to that.”  
  
“Considering that no one has asked you to stay,” Thorin muttered, snorting when Nori turned and pouted at him.

“But I come bearing gifts.”  
  
“Gifts?” Bilbo asked.  
  
“Oh, nothing fancy,” Nori said. “Just the footage from the CCTV outside Azog’s room on the night he was killed."  
  
Thorin opened his mouth to say something, closed it again, and went to sit down at the kitchen table, smacking the back of Nori’s head as he passed him.

-  
  
“I don’t want to know how you got this.” Thorin pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. “Nori…”

“Don’t tell Dwalin I’ve got it and we have a deal.” Nori took a crunching bite out of his toast and nodded down at the disc he’d slid across the table. “He’ll not like it.”

Thorin shook his head. “ _I_ don’t like it.”

“The good news is that it doesn’t look like either you or Bilbo…”  
  
Thorin growled low in his throat. “For fucks sake. This _has_ to be illegal.”  
  
Nori’s eyes widened innocently. “Does that mean you’re not going to watch it?”

“We’re telling Dwalin,” Bilbo said, and Nori turned to look at him, innocence melting away into mild betrayal.  
  
“I didn’t think you were a tattletale.”  
  
Bilbo snorted. “What is Dwalin’s job again? Oh, that’s right, looking at people, dealing with people. Just _maybe_ he’d be able to recognise whoever it is on that film you’ve got. And I don’t want to know how you got it either.”  
  
“Just because a man happen to be in possession of the security tapes from another hospital does it mean that he’s done anything _wrong_.” Nori sniffed. “And sarcasm does not become you.”  
  
“Dwalin needs to see it.”  
  
Thorin shook his head. “I’m not sure either of us should see it. Nori, you having Greenwoods’ security tapes-“

“Just one! And it’s a disc, not a tape!”

“As if that matters. If the police find out-”  
  
“They’re not going to. And I don’t think it’s illegal.”  
  
Thorin opened his mouth to give Nori a piece of his mind when Bilbo banged his spoon against the table.

“Let me stop the both of you right here before you start arguing for real.”  
  
Thorin and Nori both turned to look at Bilbo, who raised an eyebrow. “You done? Good. We’re calling Dís.”  
  
“That’s even _worse_ than Dwalin,” Nori protested.  
  
-

Dís sigh seemed to come from the bottom of the ocean. “Technically it’s not illegal for you to _watch_ , but whoever gave this to Nori will be in trouble if anyone finds out that they’ve given this to him. And you're approaching some legally grey areas.”  
  
“Maybe I just requested some footage of myself and I accidentally got the wrong thing?” Nori suggested. “Anyone can make a mistake.”  
  
“And if someone looks into that they'll see how you filed the appropriate paperwork?” Dís asked. “Not to mention that I’m not sure what the DPA say about hospitals."  
  
“DPA?” Bilbo whispered to Thorin who shrugged.  
  
“Data protection act,” Nori said. “But that’s not important. And fine, Gandalf’s got a friend with the police. If it’s important I think he can pull some strings. I get enough of paper work at work anyway."

Dís was quiet for a long moment. “I did not hear that.”

“You’re pinching the bridge of your nose now, aren’t you?” Nori ask. “You and Thorin both have the same look when you’re annoyed with me.”

Thorin felt the beginnings of a headache arrive.  
  
“Anyway,” Nori continued. “There’s what looks to be a man entering and exiting Azog’s room, but the quality is terrible, and since we’re not on the CSI series there’s no one around to click on a button and enhance it. I didn’t recognise him, but I thought that perhaps Thorin or Bilbo would.”  
  
“Dwalin,” Bilbo said pointedly and Nori sniffed.  
  
“Dwalin is on the film?” came Dís confused voice from the mobile.  
  
“No, no,” Bilbo said. “I just meant that we should show it to Dwalin, he sees a lot of people every day.”

“Just watch it first,” Nori pleaded. “No need to get him all worked up over nothing, eh?”

Dís snorted. “Karma, Nori, karma. Talk to you all later, I’m going to see my babies now.”  
  
Thorin felt a pang of guilt in his chest, and he had to remind himself that it was Saruman’s fault that the boys were staying with Glóin and his family instead of being with Dís.  
  
“Tell them I said hi.”  
  
“Tell them I said supercalifragilisticexpialidocious,” Nori said and Dís snorted.  
  
“Bye-bye.” And with that she hung up.

“So,” Nori said, popping the last of the toast inside his mouth. “Are we going to watch it or will there be popcorn first? Or pancakes?”  
  
-  
  
The film was not in any way high quality, but for once the size of Thorin’s television proved to be something of an advantage as the small screen made it easier for them to see what was going on instead of just seeing a blur of grey squares. Bilbo even admitted that it was a good thing he'd not brought his telly over yet.  
  
“Fast-forward to 6.25,” Nori said. “That’s when the guy goes inside.  
  
It wasn't really possible to see more than that he had dark hair, just long enough to touch the collar of his jacket. Since no one else was in the corridor it wasn’t really possible to say much about his size, and it also meant that the security camera had probably been the only one to see him.  
  
Despite the images shown just showing the back of the person Thorin felt an uneasy inkling uncurl in his stomach. Something about him seemed familiar...  
  
“And then he’s in there for a good twenty minutes,” Nori said shaking his head. “Guy didn’t care about getting caught it seems.”

“No camera in the room I suppose?” Bilbo asked and Nori shrugged.  
  
“If only people didn’t care about privacy.”

“I didn’t mean-“  
  
“Don’t worry, Bilbo. I’m just teasing.”  
  
Thorin plucked the remote from Bilbo’s hand and started fast-forwarding again.

“27.30,” Nori informed him and Thorin nodded. When he was getting close he pushed play again, and a few long seconds later the door to Azog’s room opened.  
  
Thorin felt the breath catch in his throat.   
  
Bilbo and Nori both heard the small wheezing noise and they turned to look at him, Bilbo with concern and Nori with dawning realisation.  
  
"You know who it is?"

"I think I do," Thorin said slowly. "Túrin."  
  
Bilbo blinked. "Should I know who that is?"  
  
"He is Lalaith's brother." Thorin reversed the film and looked at it again. You couldn't see much of the man's face, but the way he was walking... "I can't swear that it's him, but it looks like Túrin."  
  
"And he'd have a good reason for wanting Azog dead I guess," Nori said and tapped his fingers against his knee. "That is if he knew that it was Azog's fault that Lalaith was killed.  
  
"The person following Azog," Bilbo said, staring at the film. "It could have been him."

Technically it could have been just about anyone, but-  
  
"He'd know that Azog had threatened her," Thorin said, reversing the film again. "Lalaith and Túrin were very close. If she told me she will have told him as well."

"I didn't realise you knew each other that well," Nori said.

"We started talking at a Christmas party some years back," Thorin said, not adding how they'd both been pretty much trying to hide in the same corner. As they'd introduced themselves the similarity of their names had brought a smile to both of their faces, and when they'd realised that talking to each other mean that others would leave them alone they'd stuck together until their sisters had shown up to drag them away. After that they'd sort of kept in touch, meaning that they'd spent time together when they'd run into each other.  
  
When Thorin had  run into him at the hospital after Lalaith's murder he'd assumed that Túrin had just wanted to grasp at whatever what was left of his sister, and Lalaith had loved her work at Erebor. But what if there'd been another reason as well. What if he'd been the one who tampered with Azog's drugs? If he'd been at the hospital he'd have had the opportunity. And everyone could buy rat poison. But how would he know about the drugs? Unless it had been him who followed Azog before...  
  
Thorin shook his head, feeling as if he was jumping to too many conclusions.  
  
"We need to tell the police," Bilbo said, and Thorin almost protested, but what else was there to do?

"But maybe not Dwalin?" Nori asked hopefully.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa, a chapter!

Thorin was already reaching for his phone when it rang and Bilbo flinched, not expecting the sudden blare of the signal.

“Saruman,” Thorin said shortly, looking down at the mobile as if it’d just turned into a snake.

Nori brightened and bounced lightly where he was sitting in the corner of the couch. “Give it to me, I want to annoy him some more. I _love_ that he can’t fire me. It’s like Christmas and my birthday all at once when I can make him grit his teeth.”

Thorin snorted, some of the tension bleeding away from his frame. “I’m happy for you, but I don’t think antagonising him just for the sake of it would be helpful at this stage.” With a sigh he put the phone to his ear and Bilbo bit his lip and curled up a little closer to Thorin’s side, offering silent support.  
  
Saruman calling would not be good news. How could it?

“What do you want?” Thorin demanded as he answered, and Bilbo braced himself, only to relax again as Thorin somewhat sheepishly lowered the phone to glare at it.

“It merely beeped,” Thorin said accusingly. “He must have hung up.“

“Or you pressed the wrong button?” Nori teased. “Wouldn’t be-“

Bilbo’s mobile rang and once again the bright shriek of a signal caused him to jump.

They all looked over to where Bilbo’s phone was vibrating its way across the coffee table, and with a deepening feel of dread low in his stomach Bilbo uncurled enough from Thorin’s side so he could reach for it.

It wasn’t a number that he recognized, but one that Thorin took a look at and declared it to be Saruman. As soon as he’d announced the identity of the caller Nori made grabby motions with his hands. “I still can-?“

“It’s fine,” Bilbo said, ignoring Thorin’s worried look. He poked the answer button and raised the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“What have you done?” Saruman demanded, such simple things as social niceties apparently beyond him. “Is Oakenshield there? I’m sure he is. Let me speak to him.”

For a moment Bilbo assumed that Saruman somehow knew that they’d watched the CCTV-footage. But that didn’t make sense. He _couldn’t_ know, and even if he knew, why would he be so upset about it?

“We haven’t done anything,” Bilbo said, hoping that it didn’t sound half as defensive and guilty as he feared it did.  
  
“Put him on speaker,” Nori said, eyes bright.

“Ah,” Saruman said. “The secretary is there as well. I’m not surprised. Was it his idea?”

Surely he couldn’t know… “ _What_ idea?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know.”

“Bilbo.” Thorin held his hand out. “Please, let me speak to him?”

Hesitating for a moment Bilbo decided to follow Nori’s advice, and a short fumble later he’d managed to put the call on speaker, holding the phone out like an offering in the palm of his hand so they’d all be able to hear.

“Saruman,” Thorin said, brows furrowed. “Calling to confess your sins?”

“Or just because you miss us already?” Nori asked, not looking the least bit apologetic even when faced with Thorin’s warning glare.

“Oakenshield,” Saruman said, his tone colder than metal in winter. “I thought better of you than this. I thought you wanted what is best for Erebor. I thought-“

“If this is about Azog, we will be-“

“Don’t think that I’m a fool.”

Nori snorted and Bilbo nudged him with his foot.

“You know what this will mean for the future of this hospital. The publicity-“

“Don’t go bringing _publicity_ into this again,” Thorin growled.

“Wait.” Nori reached over to touch his fingers to Bilbo’s arm. “What’s this about publicity?”

“Azog’s death-“ Thorin began, but he fell silent when Saruman started to laugh.

“No. You- you truly don’t know? It was not you?”

Both Thorin and Nori were glaring at the phone now, but neither seemed inclined to speak up.

“Know what?” Bilbo asked, leaning more of his weight against Thorin’s side.

Saruman’s laughter continued for a few more moments. “I did not think I would laugh today. But I should have known that your ignorance-”

“Saruman,” Thorin said from behind gritted teeth, and there was one last chuckle before Saruman cleared his throat.

When he spoke there was no trace of amusement left in his voice.

“Erebor will feature quite heavily in tomorrow’s headlines.”

“So they’ve found out about Azog,” Nori said, shrugging one shoulder. “Since he was murdered we knew they'd-”

“ _Wrong_ ,” Saruman interrupted. “Azog features into it, but there’s more.” He sighed. “It’s already out on some internet sites. There’ll be a board meeting at 12 o’clock. Damage control. Regardless what you know, if you’ve ever cared for our hospital you’ll be there.”

With that Saruman hung up.

Nori swore and fished his own phone up from his pocket. It made a cheerful noise as he turned it on, bright colours swirling around on the screen to form some logo that Bilbo vaguely recognised but didn’t have time to place before Nori tilted the screen away.

“I switched it off on my way here,” Nori said apologetically. “In case Dwalin would call. I don’t- I’m not going to lie to him about- well, I don’t want to lie to him 'bout anything.”  
  
But he hadn’t wanted to tell him what they were doing either. That much had been made clear already, and Bilbo was happy that whatever struggles with communication he and Thorin had at least it didn’t involve keeping secrets from each other.

“What’s your Wi-Fi password?” Nori asked Thorin, earning himself a blank look. “Fuck, never mind”

“Should we have told Saruman about-“ Bilbo hesitated. “Túrin was it?”

“No.” Thorin shook his head. “He’d jump on the chance to have someone to blame. If it’s not actually Túrin…”

“No need to makes his life any worse, eh?” Nori said, tapping his phone with impatient fingers to try and make it work quicker.

“But we’re going to tell the police,” Bilbo argued. “Saruman will be told.”

“Not immediately,” Thorin replied. And I trust the police more than I trust him.”

Nori made a small noise but didn’t protest. “Fucking finally,” he muttered as something appeared to happen with the phone. “Right, let’s see what we’re dealing with. Bloody Saruman, likes being cryptic that one. Worse than Gandalf he is, well, obviously he’s worse. But-“

He fell silent as his eyes started to flick back and forth over the screen and Bilbo glanced back at Thorin.

“Maybe you should call the police now?”  
  
If the man on the film was Túrin it meant that he had murdered Azog, so he was dangerous. Especially if… Gandalf had said that his attacker had dark hair. It could be Túrin. It wasn’t much to go on, but none of what they had was very reliable.

Bilbo wrapped his arms around himself. Hopefully the police would take them seriously.

“I think we’re going to call Dís again,” Nori said, scrolling through the news sites. “She’ll need to know, even if she’ll not make it here in time for the meeting.” Lifting his gaze from the screen Nori met Bilbo’s eyes and then looked at Thorin before glancing down at the screen again. “They’re just teasing out the information, probably wanting to sell a lot of papers tomorrow. But it looks- well, there’s nothing new for _us_. Murder, drugs, corruption, bribery… Still, that'll be quite the scandal.”

“But it’s good, isn’t it?” Bilbo asked, worried by Nori’s blank expression and the tension he could feel coiling in Thorin. “Everything being brought out into the open. We even talked about this earlier, going to the press.”

“Yes, and no,” Nori said slowly. “We can’t control it now, since we’re not the ones giving the papers this information. There’s no way of knowing what they know, what they’ll print. And journalists… some of them like a good story more than they like other things. Like logic reasoning.”

“Erebor does not deserve to be dragged through the dirt because of Saruman and Azog,” Thorin said tightly. “It’s one of the best hospitals in the country.”

“But, if they’re just going to write about the things that actually happened?” Bilbo looked between the two. “Maybe Saruman even needs to step down? It won’t paint a flattering picture of him.”

“And pigs will fly,” Nori murmured, fingers flying across the screen again. “He’s too clever for that. Someone else will end up taking the blame. My money is on Theoden King, if Grima was involved in the distribution of the drugs that worm’s already in Saruman’s pocket and believe me, if you can’t trust your secretary you’re in deep shit. It’d be easy as anything for Grima to falsify whatever’s needed and have King's signature on it even.”

“They’ll forget about the good things,” Thorin sighed. “About Erebor I mean. I’ve seen it before. The papers will start with Azog, but it won’t end until they’ve spoken to every last person who had to wait for five hours in the A&E, not mentioning that there were three car accidents that day. Exposing Azog, Saruman, is one thing, but claiming that Erebor is not a good hospital, that’s another."

“It doesn’t have to happen that way,” Bilbo said, taking Thorin’s hand.

“Which is why we’ll be going to that meeting,” Nori said, not looking up. “Damage control he said. I’m sure Saruman wants help saving his own arse, but I’m with Thorin. Someone needs to make sure all the good things about Erebor isn’t lost in this mess.”

“Maybe we should wait to call the police yet,” Thorin murmured. “If we do they’ll want to question us now, and we’d probably miss the meeting.”  
  
“We could-“

Wait, what?

“Someone has _died_ ,” Bilbo pointed out, giving Thorin’s hand a squeeze. “We need to let the police know what we know, to help them catch whoever did it. Right now it sounds like the two of you are only concerned about the _hospital_. Which is not actually _living_.”  
  
To be entirely, _awfully_ , honest, killing Azog was one thing, but if someone was also capable of attacking Gandalf then who knew what that person could-

“I know,” Thorin said, and Bilbo’s stomach scrunched up at the hurt he could hear in Thorin’s voice. “Bilbo, of course I do. I don’t want anyone to get hurt. You can’t believe-”

“I didn’t mean-“ When Thorin made to pull away his hand Bilbo squeezed it again. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know,” Thorin said again after a moment. “Of course. I’m sorry too. It was not my intention to-”

“Is this what it’s like when you fight?” Nori asked. “No one’s even going to curse?” He quirked an eyebrow when they both turned to look at him. “Leave the police to me, I’m sure I can work something out with them. Book an appointment or something. And I’ll call Dwalin and let him know that the hospital security needs to be on alert, about Túrin in particular.”

A sigh, and Nori began poking at his phone again. “And maybe he’ll not actually ask me how we know this, or well, how we think we know what we might know. Pigs _can_ fly, right?”

-

Bilbo didn’t hear how Nori’s conversation with Dwalin went as the redhead disappeared into the kitchen to have it, but he hoped Dwalin would understand the need to bend the rules. No one had gotten hurt, and if Thorin was right… then they _really_ needed to know.

No one would think it very strange to see Túrin at the hospital. Despite not working there people would know him, and- and it might be all too easy for him to go into Gandalf’s room.  
  
Shaking his head to clear it from disheartening flights of fantasy Bilbo wrapped his arms around his waist and burrowed deeper into the couch, his eyes tracking Thorin as he paced across the living room floor, deep in a conversation with Dís.  
  
Thorin wasn’t the flailing type but if he’d been Bilbo was sure that there’d been more than a fair share of arm waving and expansive gestures going on.

But instead he just… _prowled_. It was entirely too attractive considering the circumstances and to distract himself Bilbo got his own phone and sent a text to Esme, telling her about the brewing trouble and not to worry.

He didn’t get a reply, so she probably was working. He could go check her schedule but… it didn’t matter. It wasn’t urgent. If the rumour mills worked as fast as usual she’d know about the articles that Nori had found online soon enough, and then she’d try to call, and she’d see the text and hopefully she’d calm down. Right.

He sent a text to Saradoc too, just on the off chance that Esme had lost her phone. Unlike his wife, Sar was pretty quick to reply, even if what he wrote was mostly exclamation marks.  
  
Tapping out another, hopefully calming, response Bilbo slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Maybe he had time to bake something, if Nori was done in the kitchen. Cupcakes. That would be nice.

That was not to be though as Thorin; no longer on the phone, caught up with him in the hallway.

“Bilbo, can we talk?”

“I’m sorry,” Bilbo said immediately, reaching out for Thorin’s hand. “I- I know you’d not-“

He fell silent when Thorin cupped his cheek, gently brushing his thumb over Bilbo’s lip. “It was good that you reminded me. It’s easy to think of Erebor as a living thing, as an entity in its own right, but-“

“I know you’d not want anyone hurt,” Bilbo rushed to explain, covering Thorin’s hand with his own, maybe to try and keep it there in case Thorin was going to pull away. “I’m sorry.”

It was likely very fortunate that Bilbo had gone for a career in medicine instead of trying his hand at writing fiction as he'd fancied as a teenager. Words, what were words? Eloquent? Didn’t ring a bell.

At least ‘I’m sorry’ clearly conveyed his message.

“No need,” Thorin said, leaning down to brush their lips together, his thumb stroking over Bilbo’s cheek. “I think we’re all a little high strung at the moment.”

And in just that particular moment they could hear a string of curses coming from the kitchen.

“Do you think that is a good sign, or a bad one?” Thorin asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smile.

“Depends on if he’s talking to Dwalin or the police. Maybe.”


End file.
